


Eternalism

by Hogwarts_Riddle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1940s, AU, Age Regression/De-Aging, Alchemy, Elder Wand (Harry Potter), F/M, Family Drama, Grindelwald is defeated, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Rivalry, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Chamber of Secrets, Memory Alteration, Minister for Magic Tom Riddle, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Pregnancy, Riddle at Hogwarts Era, Secrets, Slytherin Hermione Granger, The Deathly Hallows, The Philosopher's Stone, Time Travel, Vampires, War with Grindelwald, Wool's Orphanage (Harry Potter), World War II, Young Death Eaters, Young Tom Riddle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 42
Words: 135,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24624868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hogwarts_Riddle/pseuds/Hogwarts_Riddle
Summary: Dumbledore is dead and Hogwarts is on lock-down as the ever-present threat of Voldemort and his Death Eaters grows closer by the day. Hermione is trying to remain positive in the face of crisis, but tensions are running high among the Gryffindors and they're all starting to lose hope. That is, until a strange scroll left by Dumbledore opens up a new path to salvation...Cover by AvendellIllustrations by Gildedshivers
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle
Comments: 728
Kudos: 1296





	1. The Scroll

* * *

Dumbledore was dead...

Those three words echoed through Hermione's brain repeatedly without stop, a part of her unable to fully process it. The wise old headmaster was the last person she ever expected to die. She, along with many others, had always thought that he would be at the forefront of the battle against Voldemort, fighting side by side with Harry, and yet he was one of the first to go.

One thing was for certain; Hogwarts was lost without Dumbledore.

A state of panic and chaos had filled the student body in the days to come after their headmaster's demise. Many were demanding to return home, no longer feeling safe in the castle. Professor McGonagall, who had stepped up to take Dumbledore's place, was trying to maintain order as best as she could, but you could clearly tell that even she was at a loss.

Both classes and quidditch had been cancelled until further notice, with strict laws implemented in order to keep the students as safe as possible.

Students were not allowed to leave their respective common rooms without permission, and even then they had to be escorted to their destination by no less than two teachers. Every night and every morning, a register would be taken by the head of the house to ensure that no one had gone missing.

Mail both in and out of the school was restricted and was to be searched before being delivered to its recipient.

Specific rooms in the castle were strictly off limits, namely the Room of Requirement as well as Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom. Basically, any and all rooms they thought might hold a connection to Voldemort and his death eaters.

And so Harry, Ron and Hermione found themselves on lock-down, confined to Gryffindor Tower with a gradually increasing lack of things to keep them entertained. There were only so many books in the tower for Hermione to read before she ran out and there were only so many games of wizard's chess and exploding snaps that Harry and Ron could play before they got tired of it.

After about two weeks of confinement, everyone was starting to grow tired of it. Although they pleaded over and over for the lock-down to be lifted, or at the very least to be lessened, the teacher's minds were made up. Ginny even argued with McGonagall, pointing out that a small quidditch match might help lift the students' spirits. As much as McGonagall liked quidditch, the answer was still the same. It was too risky.

"How much longer do you think this is going to last?" Neville asked as they all sat around the fire in the common room. "You don't think they'll keep us here forever, do you?"

Nobody knew quite how to answer that, probably because they were all wondering the same exact thing.

"I'm sure that McGonagall will let us go as soon as it's safe to do so," Hermione tried her best to stay optimistic. They all needed as much reassurance as they could get.

Harry, who up until that point had kept to himself for the most part, scoffed at that. "In that case, we're likely never going to leave this place. No one is safe, not as long as Voldemort's out there."

"Don't say his name!" cried a nearby first year.

"I refuse to let myself live in fear!" Harry exclaimed. "Voldemort will only grow stronger unless we go out there and try to stop him!"

"And how do you suggest we do that? If Dumbledore couldn't stop him, what chance do we possibly stand against him?" asked Seamus.

Tensions were running high. Being cooped up had left everyone frustrated. They were starting to give up hope, and for good reason. The circumstances were undeniably grim. Voldemort could very well attack the school at any given moment now that he had succeeded in killing Dumbledore.

"We can start by hunting down his horcruxes. Dumbledore and I managed to find a few of them before he died. He had them hidden away in his office last I remember."

Hermione understood what he was getting at, and while she knew that it was their only real hope of defeating Voldemort, it certainly wouldn't make it an easy task to accomplish.

"Harry, I know what you're thinking and it's too risky. Even if we were to track down all of his horcruxes, we still don't know how to destroy them," she reasoned.

"Right you are, Miss Granger."

Jumping at the sound, they turned to find Minerva McGonagall standing in the doorway behind them with a particularly stern look on her face.

There was a chorus of gulps as they all wondered just how much of their conversation their head of house had heard.

"I must impress on all of you not to do anything foolish," McGonagall warned. "I know that this is hard for you, but I ask that you continue to hold tight and trust us. The other professors and I are doing all that we can in the face of this crisis."

No one dared to speak after that. All they could do was nod their heads obediently.

"Now, I suggest you try to find something else to do with your time."

One by one they disbanded, going their own ways. Seamus & Dean headed upstairs to the boys dormitory. Neville went over to one of the desks and opened a big book on Herbology. Harry and Ron eventually gave in, be it rather unwillingly, and started up yet another game of wizards chess.

Hermione was just about to head up to her dorm and find a book to reread when she felt McGonagall place a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"If I may, I would like to speak with you in private, Miss Granger," McGonagall said. "Would you please follow me?"

The request caught her slightly off guard. Over the last couple of weeks that they had been confined to their house, not once had McGonagall given permission for them to leave. While she wasn't sure why her Transfiguration Professor would want to talk to her and not Harry, she wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to leave the tower, even if for only a few minutes.

"Of course, professor," she nodded.

Allowing McGonagall to step through the portrait first, she cast a quick glance back to find that the eyes of the entire common room were on her. Most of them were glaring, no doubt jealous that she got to leave and they didn't. Even Harry and Ron didn't seem too pleased. She felt a pang of guilt for leaving them behind, but quickly squashed it, knowing that they would have taken the opportunity just as eagerly if they had been given it.

Once out, she found Slughorn standing outside, and soon stepped up behind her as they headed off down the corridor.

Her mind couldn't help but fill with questions as to what they might want to talk to her about. Perhaps they needed her help with something? She assumed that it probably had something to do with keeping Harry and Ron out of trouble, either that or something concerning her role as prefect. At least, those were the only ideas that came to mind.

In passing she managed to sneak a glance out of the windows. Even outside of Gryffindor Tower, things still seemed pretty bleak. The sun was nowhere to be found in the sky, concealed by a thick layer of ominous clouds. She wasn't sure if a storm was brewing or if it was a sign of Voldemort's presence.

McGonagall and Slughorn soon noticed the state of the sky as well, and based off the way their faces paled at the sight, she had to assume it was the later assumption.

"This is not good," Slughorn claimed, a slight tremble in his voice. "We must hurry before it is too late!"

Breaking out into a full out run, the two professors all but pulled her along.

Hermione didn't bother to try and resist or even question them as to what was going on. It didn't take a genius to sense that danger was looming over them. The school was under attack.

She wondered if the rest of any of the other students knew that. Shouldn't the professor's be frantically trying to rally their defences or evacuate the students through one of the many secret passageways? Why had they asked to speak with her? If anyone could help them defeat Voldemort and his Death Eaters, it was Harry.

Finally they reached the all too familiar Gryffin statue that hid the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

"Sherbet Lemon," McGonagall muttered the password between ragged breaths.

Hermione briefly noted how they had chosen the password in honor of Dumbledore's favorite muggle sweet, but she did not have time to dwell on it.

Without delay, they raced up the spiral stairs and through the door, casting a locking spell on it after they were all inside.

Taking a moment to catch her breath, Hermione glanced around. The office had remained much the same as how Dumbledore had left it. Portraits of all of Hogwarts' former headmasters still hung from the walls and the walls were lined with shelves of various awards and trinkets that had belonged to it's previous resident. Even Fawkes was there, perched on his usual stand.

"What is going on, Professor?" she asked at last. "Why did you bring me here?"

With a deep breath, McGonagall took her seat behind the desk, staring at her young student for a moment before speaking

"We have debated over whether to inform you, but it would appear that we have no other choice but to ask a terrible favor of you."

"What is it?"

Reaching into one of the drawers, McGonagall pulled out a scroll tied with a shiny red ribbon and handed it to her. "Dumbledore left this for you."

Her eyes widened slightly. Dumbledore had left something for her? She had expected that he might leave something for Harry, but her? Curious as to what it could contain, she unrolled the scroll and began to read.

_'Miss Granger,_

_If you are reading this, I can only assume that my fear has been realized and that I have met my end. Voldemort is sure to target the school once I am gone, and Harry will be forced to follow through with his inevitable destiny._

_As I sit here, contemplating the future, I find myself filled with guilt at the prospect of placing such a heavy burden on young Harry's shoulders. His is a fate I would not wish on anyone, and yet I am afraid to say that what I am about to ask of you is no better._

_I do not claim to be perfect, although many saw me as such. Over the years, I have made many mistakes, some of which could have prevented the very war that we now face. Many years ago, I made the mistake of shunning a boy who could have ended up very different had he only had someone to lead him out of darkness._

_Along with this scroll, I have left a rather curious time turner that I was gifted many years ago. I do not trust myself enough to use it, but I do trust you. The time turner is much like the one you were given in your third year, only that it has been enchanted to take you much further back in time. However, once you go back, there is no coming forward. You will be evidently stuck in that time._

_If you decide to use it, and I sincerely hope that you will, you will find that I have already set it to the date I would have you go. Please, do whatever it takes to stop Tom Riddle from becoming Lord Voldemort._

_~ Albus Dumbledore'_

Hermione spent a few minutes just staring at the scroll, rereading it to make sure she had read it correctly. Unfortunately, it soon became clear that she had not misread it.

"Tell me this is some sort of joke."

McGonagall and Slughorn exchanged a look between themselves before returning their gaze to her, shaking their heads.

"I'm afraid not, Miss Granger," Slughorn answered.

McGonagall then pulled out a silver time turner, which she could only assume was the one Dumbledore had left for her.

So many different emotions bubbled up inside of her that she couldn't figure out which she felt the strongest.

On the one hand, she was confused. Stop Tom Riddle from becoming Voldemort? How on earth was she supposed to pull that off? From what Harry had told her about his encounter with the sixteen year old memory version of him, it sounded like he had been well past the point of saving.

Then there was anger. She was undeniably angry at Dumbledore for asking so much of her. He claimed to have felt guilty about placing the burden on Harry yet seemed to have no problem with asking her to take the burden upon herself. Did he not realize just how much she would be giving up to follow through with this request of his? She would be leaving behind everything and everyone she knew and cared about to go back in time and try to save a heartless monster. What would her parents think? What would her friends think?

"Harry and Ron... I can't just leave them," she objected. "Merlin knows they'd do something foolish and get themselves killed without me."

It seemed that McGonagall had already considered that.

"I know this is not an easy task to accept, Miss Granger, but I genuinely believe that it is our only hope. You would be saving many lives. Mr. Potter would still have his parents, along with his Godfather and many others who were lost. Your friends wouldn't need you to look after them."

She bit her lip, something she often did when she was deep in thought. As much as she didn't want to admit it, Professor McGonagall did make an excellent point. If she were to succeed, and she wasn't entirely sure if she would, then the whole world would be better off as a result.

Both Dumbledore and McGonagall seemed convinced that she could do this, and she had to admit that the other option would probably involve losing a lot more lives. After weighing the pros and cons of both options, she finally made her decision.

"Alright, I'll do it," she relented. "But on one condition…"


	2. Preparation

The trip back to Gryffindor Tower was just as rushed as the trip from. Hermione couldn’t help but glance back every now and then, halfway convinced that death eaters were going to appear out of nowhere. Deep down, she knew that she was most likely being paranoid as there had yet to be any real signs that the school was under attack. The warning bell would have surely gone off if it was.

While Professor Slughorn hurried her off to the Hospital Wing, which was where they had decided to prepare to send her off, Professor McGonagall went off to fetch Harry and Ron as per her request. She wasn’t about to leave them behind without at least saying goodbye.

If she was going to leave this time behind to correct Dumbledore’s mistake and save the world, she wanted to at least say goodbye to her best friends. Dumbledore had said it himself. She wouldn’t be coming back. And if, by some chance she did get to see them again, she would likely be old and grey.

Madam Pomfrey was waiting for them when they got there, looking rather worn and tired. It was almost as if the medi-witch had aged ten years since the last time she saw her. Clearly she too was suffering under the effects of the school’s lock-down.

“Is everything ready?” Pomfrey asked.

Slughorn nodded. “Minerva will be arriving soon with the time turner. She just went to collect a few things for Miss Granger.”

The nurse nodded her head, casting a sympathetic look at Hermione before moving past them into her office.

As Slughorn escorted her over to sit down on one of the beds, Hermione couldn’t help but note how his usually big rosy cheeks had lost all color, and how his eyes held a slightly haunted look to them. He was worried, and she honestly couldn’t blame him.

“You, my girl, might just be one of the bravest student’s I’ve ever known,” Slughorn broke the silence that had washed over them. “I don’t know many who would have been willing to take on such a task as this.”

She managed to give him a weak smile. Despite his propensity to show favoritism, she couldn’t say that he was a bad man. He certainly made a better Potions Master than Snape. Unlike Snape, he actually cared about the well being of his students.

“Do you really think I can do this? Do you think I can save Vol- er, Tom?”

Professor Slughorn got a far off look in his eyes, as if remembering something from a long time ago. No doubt it had something to do with Tom.

“I believe that there is hope for him, especially with you in his life,” he explained. “Tom never had any real friends. Those he surrounded himself with were only there because he was powerful and charismatic. He was good at getting what he wanted and they knew that.

“It might not be easy, but if anyone can save him, I reckon it’s you.”

She thought about her potions master and how he must feel. This was one of his favorite students, or so she had been told, that she was going back to try and save. And if it worked out as she hoped it would, she might be able to save Harry’s mother, Lily, as well. He too was counting on her to succeed.

“I’ll do my best for all our sake's, sir.”

He smiled over at her appreciatively.

They sat there, returning to a comfortable silence as they waited.

Just then, the door slammed open and in came Harry and Ron, followed shortly after by McGonagall. Scanning the room quickly, it didn’t take long for their eyes to find her and hurry towards her.

“Hermione!”

“Please tell us it’s not true,” Ron pleaded.

“Read for yourself,” Hermione told them, handing them the scroll.

The boys read through Dumbledore’s last words with increasingly widening eyes. By the time they were finished, they both looked as though they were ready to resurrect Dumbledore just to kill him again with their bare hands.

“He’s mad if he thought for one second that we were gonna let you go off and do this on your own,” Harry declared, his fists curling up into fists.

“I mean, it’s Voldemort for Merlin’s sake!” Ron exclaimed. “He’ll rip you to pieces as soon as he finds out you’re muggle-born!”

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off before she could do so.

“How dare you dishonor Dumbledore’s noble sacrifice!” McGonagall snapped. “His greatest concern was the well-being and safety of everyone in this school! I highly doubt he would ask this if he thought we had any other choice.”

As much as Hermione wanted to take sides with McGonagall in defending the late headmaster, she found herself unable to do so. After everything that Dumbledore had put her and her friends through over the last six years, all for the so-called greater good, she couldn’t help but doubt the nobility of his actions.

“Come on Mione, surely you can see how dangerous this task is?”

She nodded her head. “I know exactly what it is he’s asking of me, and honestly, had it been just for his sake, I probably would have refused it, but think of all the good I could do if I succeed. All the lives I could save.”

She forced herself to look away, fearing that she might change her mind if she looked at their faces for even a minute longer.

“I’ve always wanted to make a difference, to make the wizarding world a better place for everyone. This is my chance to do that. Please, let me take the burden of saving the world off your shoulders for once, Harry.”

She waited for one of them to continue arguing with her, to make another excuse as to why she shouldn’t go. Moments passed yet no one spoke. She lifted her head back up just in time to see Harry step forward and pull her into a tight hug.

“You truly are the best friend I have ever had.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she hugged him back. It definitely made it a bit harder to go, knowing that she might never see him again, yet at the same time it also gave her a new source of determination. She had to go, not because anyone was forcing her to, but because people like Harry deserved more than what life in this broken war-torn world had given them. 

Pulling away, he reached out to wipe away her tears with his fingers before he stepped back to Ron’s side.

“I’m going to miss you Hermione,” he said with a sad smile.

Meanwhile, Ron was staring at the two of them as if they were speaking some sort of foreign language. “Are you serious? You’re just going to let her go?”

He nodded his head, “It’s her choice.”

She couldn’t fight the tears that continued to come. “Thank you for understanding.”

With that out of the way, preparations for her journey began.

While McGonagall filled everyone in on what was going on outside of the castle and the death eaters that had been spotted marching towards the school, Madam Pomfrey returned from her office with a set of vintage looking children’s clothes and a letter, setting them down on the bed beside Hermione. Slughorn pulled out a vial filled with what looked like murky green water from the lake, handing it to her.

It was then that McGonagall stepped forward to explain the plan. 

“The potion before you is something of an aging potion, rather with the opposite effect. With this potion, you will be aged back down to that of a child, around the age of eleven, we’re thinking.”

“Why would you turn her back into a child?” Ron interrupted. “Wouldn’t it be easier to save the world as she is?”

McGonagall glared at the red-headed boy, causing him to shrink back.

“I assure you, Mr. Weasley, we are doing this for a reason,” she told him before turning to face Hermione again, reaching into her pocket and holding up the silver time turner. “For you see, this time turner is set to place you just outside of Wool’s Orphanage in London on the date of June 15th, 1938.”

Hermione’s eyes widened as the realization dawned on her as to what they were planning. “You want me to meet Tom Riddle before he comes to Hogwarts?” she assumed.

McGonagall and Slughorn nodded their heads.

“The potion has been charmed to be more permanent, making it so that you will age alongside him,” Slughorn added.

She had to admit that it wasn’t a bad plan. The idea of meeting a child version of Voldemort was a lot less intimidating than meeting him as a sixteen-year-old, who had probably already made at least two horcruxes. Though, she couldn’t say that she was particularly eager to go through puberty a second time.

McGonagall explained a bit more. Once at Hogwarts, she was to try and remain as close to Tom as possible in the hopes that her friendship might be enough to lead him down a different path, hopefully a better one.

“Let’s get on with it then.”

Shooing the men away from the bed, Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall put up dividers all around her bed as they urged her to undress before taking the potion. As grateful as she was for the dividers, she still felt rather embarrassed about stripping naked in front of the medi-witch and transfiguration professor. Though, she supposed that she had no real reason to be.

“I warn you, the transformation might hurt a bit,” Pomfrey warned her as she handed her the vial.

Shutting her eyes tight and pinching her nose, she brought the vial up to her lips and downed the murky liquid as fast as she could, willing herself not to think about it or the fact that it tasted vaguely like seaweed. After a few moments, she managed to swallow it down.

Madam Pomfrey plucked the vial from her grasp. “Brace yourself!”

No sooner had the medi-witch spoken, then she felt herself begin to change. Pain shot through her whole body, forcing her to collapse back onto the bed. Her bones felt as though they were slowly breaking apart one by one. Her skin felt as if it was on fire, melting clean off of her.

As her brain became overwhelmed by panic, she couldn’t think of anything to compare the sensation to. Only that it was ten times worse than the time she accidentally turned herself into a cat.

In her agony, she couldn’t help the scream that tore out of her lungs. 

“Hermione!”

The two older witches had to hold her down as she thrashed about, clawing at her skin. They tried to comfort her as best they could, reassuring her that it would be over soon and apologizing for making her go through this in the first place.

Gradually the pain began to dullen to a manageable ache. Flooded by relief, she began to breathe deeply in and out to calm herself.

“It’s over now.” She felt the older witches release their hold on her.

She delayed in doing so for a few moments as she waited for the pain to pass completely, a feeling of numbness taking its place. Pulling herself up into a sitting position, she slowly opened her eyes, starting with one and then the other.

The first thing she noticed was that both McGonagall and Pomfrey seemed to have grown. She was about to question it when she remembered the reason for the pain. Her eyes snapped down to look herself over.

To say that it was weird seeing her body reverted back to that of a child was… weird, to say the least. Her legs were short and not as slim as they were, same with her arms. The weirdest part was probably the fact that her breasts were gone. They had never been that big to begin with, but it was a bit frustrating as she had been just starting to get over her body insecurities.

Opening her mouth, she could feel that her two front teeth were back to being several sizes bigger than they ought to be. “I don't suppose you could…”

Madam Pomfrey nodded her head, understanding immediately what she meant. With a wave of her wand, she cast a shrinking spell on her teeth. It felt a bit weird, but not nearly as bad as the de-aging process itself. The next time she reached in to touch her teeth, she could feel that they were back to being the same size as all the others.

“Thank you,” she gave the medi-witch a small smile.

With a sigh, she got up and started to change into the child sized clothes she had been provided with; a pair of simple black buckle shoes, a pair of white socks and a floral print dress with a sash fastened around the waist and a bit of lace trim around the collar and sleeves.

Then McGonagall took on the seemingly impossible task of styling her hair. With some time and no small amount of effort, McGonagall managed to tame her wild curls, tying it back with a ribbon to keep it out of her face.

By the time she was handed a mirror to look herself over, she barely recognized herself. She looked like one of the old dolls she had as a child, which she supposed wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. The goal was to make her fit in with the time period, and as far as she could see, they had done a good job.

Pleased with her appearance, the dividers were pulled away, revealing her new appearance to the men waiting on the other side.

Slughorn smiled at her, nodding his head in approval while Harry and Ron just stood there staring at her with their mouths gaping open.

“Bloody hell…” Ron muttered.

She rolled her eyes at them. “It’s not polite to stare, you know.”

It took them a few moments to recover and shut their mouths, and even longer to find their tongue’s.

“You look great, Mione.”

Her cheeks flushed pink at Harry’s compliment. Even she had to admit that she wasn’t completely hideous. Although, it still felt rather weird for them to look so much taller and more grown up than her.

“Now, we shall go over the cover story we have come up with for you,” McGonagall said, carefully slipping the time turner around Hermione’s small neck. It was a bit big on her child sized body, but she didn’t worry about it too much. “Your name is still to be Hermione Granger and you are a muggle-born whose parents have recently died in a car accident. With no other family to take you in, your neighbours brought you to the orphanage and gave you this note to give to the Matron.”

Madam Pomfrey held the letter out to Hermione.

Reaching out, she took the letter and turned it over in her hands to examine it. It was written in an elegant spidery handwriting that she didn’t recognize. She assumed that it was Madam Pomfrey’s.

“Is that agreeable to you?”

Hermione nodded her head. It was simple enough, without deviating too far from the truth.

“You will not have your wand with you, so I would advise that you head straight towards the Orphanage upon your arrival, but before you do so, we must ask that you destroy the time turner. No one must know the truth of how you came to be in that time. From this moment forward you belong to that time. The future you come from will be no more.”

She gulped at that piece of information. Deep down she had known that would be the case all along, but now that she was hearing the exact words coming from McGonagall’s mouth, she couldn’t help but be hit by the full reality of it. This was not just some dream that she would be able to wake up from and find herself safe in the Gryffindor Tower with Harry and Ron. This was all too real.

Still, she was determined to go through with it. She had come too far to chicken out now. There was no turning back.

“I understand.”

Everyone stepped back to give her space as she took one last look at those with her. 

She wasn’t sure if Madam Pomfrey or Professor McGonagall would still be at Hogwarts the next time she entered it’s gates. The only one whose presence she knew for certain was Professor Slughorn, and of course, Dumbledore would be there as well. It wasn’t much, but it gave her a small amount of comfort to know that there would be a couple of familiar faces.

Then she turned to Harry and Ron, taking in every inch of their appearance as if to memorize what they looked like. They had been through a lot together and though she wouldn’t wish such dangers on anyone, she had to admit that it had created an unbreakable bond between the three of them. She would always remember how they risked their lives to save her from that Mountain Troll in first year and though she might never see them again, she vowed to keep them alive in her heart.

“I’ll miss you all… so much.”

With nothing left to do, she reached down and started the time turner, watching as it began to turn rapidly.

The world around her vanished into nothing as she felt herself being sucked into a void of nothing but empty blackness. It felt kind of like apparating and yet, at the same time it also felt kind of like that time when she had port-keyed to the Quidditch World Cup. Either way, it made her feel like she was going to throw up.

She was left floating in the empty void for what felt like an eternity before she felt herself being sucked back out and she soon felt her feet land once more on solid ground.

The next thing she knew, she was standing at the end of a darkened city street, a row of identical looking Victorian townhouses on either side of her, and standing straight ahead at the other end of the street was a tall imposing building with a sign above the gates that read _‘Wool’s Orphanage’_.

She had made it…


	3. Wool's Orphanage

It had just started to rain when Hermione reached the gates of Wool’s Orphanage. Her short-sleeved dress did little to protect her from the elements and her shoes were quickly filled with water. In a hurry, she pushed open the gate, closing it behind her and was about to rush to the door when she remembered McGonagall’s instructions.

 _“Before you do so, we must ask that you destroy the time turner. No one must know the truth of how you came to be in that time,”_ she could still hear her stern transfiguration professor’s voice in the back of her mind.

Lifting the silver chain from around her neck, she took a moment to stare at it before letting it slip through her fingers, falling to the pavement in front of her. Then, with a deep breath, she brought a foot up and crushed it to pieces, kicking the remaining pieces off to the side.

Even though she knew the time turner couldn’t take her back, the fact that it was now destroyed only made it so much more real.

She shook those thoughts out of her mind before they could go any farther. It was just like McGonagall said. From now on, she belonged to this timeline. The future she had come from was no more. There was no 1997, only 1938.

With that in mind, she crossed the remaining distance to the door, climbing the three steps and raising a tiny hand to knock on the door.

As she waited, she couldn’t help but instinctively glance behind her to make sure there were no shady looking figures within sight. She knew that it was probably just her own paranoia, seeing as there were no death eaters in existence yet. 

Then again... Wasn’t there a different dark wizard by the name of Grindelwald active during this time? 

That certainly didn’t make her feel any better...

She was just about to knock again, eager to get off the street and out of the rain, when the door swung open, revealing a thin woman with a stern face and short dirty blonde hair curled in the typical fashion.

“May I help you?” The woman asked, staring down her nose at her.

Hermione wasn’t sure if it was the rain drenching her from head to toe or the iciness of the woman’s gaze, but a sudden chill ran through her, causing her to shiver.

“A-Are you the matron?” her voice sounding unnaturally squeaky.

“Yes, I am Mrs. Cole,” the woman answered. “Why do you ask?”

With trembling hands, she held out the letter that Pomfrey had given her, which was, much like her, completely soaked.

Mrs. Cole snatched the letter from her and ripping it open, pulled out the soggy piece of parchment. She didn’t speak for several minutes as she read through the contents, leaving the poor girl to stand there, rubbing her arms to try and get warm.

Looking up from the letter, the matron scanned her eyes over the girl with intense scrutiny, as if searching for something on her person. Whatever it was, she must not have found it as her gaze softened, be it ever so slightly.

With a sigh, Mrs. Cole stepped aside, motioning for her to come in.

Hermione didn’t need to be asked twice. Rushing past the matron, she went straight towards the nearby gas heater, sitting down in front of it.

“Stay here while I find some dry clothes and a room to put you in,” Mrs. Cole instructed.

“Yes, ma’am,” she nodded her head.

With one final glare Mrs. Cole swept off out of the entry and out of sight.

As the shivering began to subside and her skin warmed before the heater, she could finally relax and let her mind wander. The first task her mind undertook was searching for any information she might know about the 1930’s.

World War II would be starting in a couple of years if she wasn’t mistaken. Though she supposed that it wouldn’t affect her too terribly as she would be at Hogwarts for most of it. But then again, she supposed that the wizarding world would be affected just as much by the war against Grindelwald. She wasn’t entirely sure the exact time in which it took place. For all she knew, it could be going on at that very moment.

She pushed that concern aside for the time being. Grindelwald was not of real concern to her. He wasn’t the one she had come to stop.

Somewhere in this dimly lit orphanage was the boy who would grow up to become a creature so wicked and repulsive that wizards all over the world feared to speak his name. It was her job to make sure that never happened.

Obviously the first thing she needed to do was find Tom, which she figured wouldn’t be too difficult as they were both living in the same building. He couldn’t hide from her forever. She knew that it was only a matter of time before they crossed paths.

By the time Mrs. Cole returned, Hermione was still dripping wet, but felt much warmer, and jumped to her feet immediately upon spotting her.

“Come with me, Miss Granger,” the matron called to her, a drab grey dress and matching stocking hanging from her arm. She started towards the stairs without so much as a glance her way.

Hermione supposed that it might be for the best if Mrs. Cole didn’t pay too much attention to her. The iciness of her glare nearly rivalled that of Professor Snape. Who knows, perhaps her old potions master was even related to the muggle orphanage matron. Though, a part of her highly doubted such a possibility. From what she had heard of Mrs. Cole from Harry, she was one of those muggles who hated any and all things magical.

She followed Mrs. Cole up two flights of stairs and down a long narrow corridor. As she walked, she couldn’t help but notice how each door had a number on it. 

Room #44... 

Room #45... 

She quickly caught on to the pattern. There were approximately twenty rooms per floor, and judging from the height of the building, she would say that there were four floors, not including the ground floor or a possible basement or attic. If her calculations were correct, then that meant there were roughly eighty rooms in total.

Perhaps finding Tom wouldn’t be as easy as she thought.

They came to a halt in front of Room #50, right at the very end of the hall, which came as something of a blessing to her as she would only have one neighbour. Not only that, but it would be easy for her to remember.

Pushing open the door, she wasn’t too surprised to find that her room was basically a big box. It had one window, which didn’t provide much light as it’s view was the brick wall of the building next door. The furnishings consisted of nothing more than the bare minimum; a small rickety looking bed frame with a mattress no thicker than her hand, a wooden desk and chair, and a wardrobe next to the door.

It was a far cry from the comforts she had enjoyed in Hogwarts dorms, but she knew that she didn’t have any right to complain. It was better than being stuck out on the streets.

“There is a communal bathroom on each floor and meals are served twice a day at 8:00 AM and 7:00 PM,” the matron began to explain. “We offer lessons in reading and writing for those who wish to attend in the afternoon and we leave for Mass on Sundays at 9:00 AM. Curfew is at 10:00 PM.

“Any questions?”

She shook her head. It all sounded quite straightforward to her. The schedule was similar to that of Hogwarts, the only difference was that they served three meals a day and taught way more classes. Oh well, at least most of the other children wouldn’t be illiterate.

“In that case, I shall leave you to get settled in.”

Handing her the dress and stockings, Mrs. Cole turned and started to leave, but stopped as she reached the door next to hers. She glared at the door as if she had a personal grudge against it.

“You would do well to stay away from the boy in the room next to yours,” Mrs. Cole warned. “Terrible things tend to happen to those who disturb him.”

And with that, she went on her way.

Hermione felt her heart pick up speed as she let the matron’s words sink in. Could it be? Surely she wasn’t that lucky… She knew from Harry that Tom had been something of a troubled child, but could it be that his was the room next to hers?

She would have to investigate that, but not until she was dried off. Stepping into her new bedroom, she closed the door and began to strip out of her wet clothes, hanging them to dry on the end of the bed frame. The dress was admittedly quite pretty and had been a gift from McGonagall. She was hoping to keep it to at the very least remember her by.

Then there was the fact that the dress that Mrs. Cole was less than comfortable as it scratched against her skin. Sadly, it was the only other dress she had. At least it was warm and dry. With long sleeves and a pair of thick stockings, there wasn’t much bare skin sticking out, which was fine with her.

With that out of the way, she set her mind to the task before her. As much as her body felt like curling up for a nap, she knew that her mind would wander back to all she had left behind if she let it. No, it was better to focus elsewhere for as long as she could.

Opening her door again, she stepped back out into the corridor. A quick glance around reassured her that Mrs. Cole was not around to catch her as she crept towards the door next to hers. Could it be that Tom Riddle was actually behind this door?

There was only one way to find out.

She took a deep breath, trying to psych herself up before reaching up to knock on the door.

“Go away,” she heard a muffled voice from the other side.

Her mind was at war with itself. A part of it was screaming at her to run back to her room and stay as far away from Tom Riddle as possible, but the other part knew that she needed to do this. _He’s not Voldemort yet,_ she thought to herself. _He’s just a child, no different than you._

She knocked again.

“I said, go away!”

She heard footsteps approaching, and a moment later, the door swung open. Standing on the other side was a boy who stood a full head taller than her with neatly kept dark hair and stormy blue eyes. He was wearing a drab grey tunic that appeared to be of the same material as her dress and a pair of matching trousers.

Whoever he thought was knocking, he surely hadn’t been expecting her, at least that was based on the way his eyes widened when he saw her. Maybe he had been expecting Mrs. Cole instead?

“Who are you?” he asked, schooling his features in the blink of an eye.

Well, he certainly lacked some manners but she tried not to let that get to her.

“Oh, my name is Hermione Granger,” she said. “I just moved into the room next door and I heard that there was a boy my age in this room. I thought I would come and introduce myself.”

“I’m sure Mrs. Cole warned you to stay away from me.”

She nodded her head. “Yes, she mentioned something about that, but I like to form my own opinions.”

She extended her hand to him, but he did not take it. Instead, he eyed it suspiciously as if he suspected she was wearing one of those hand buzzers. After a few moments, she began to feel rather foolish and started to retract her hand.

“Bad things happen to those who annoy me,” he warned.

There was no doubt in her mind that he was indeed capable of making bad things happen to her, nor was there any doubt in her mind that this was Tom. He clearly didn’t trust her, and she supposed she could understand that. She knew all too well just how mean some kids could be if you were different.

That’s when an idea came to mind as to how she could get him to at least open up to her.

“And bad things happen to those who try to hurt me.”

He just blinked at her, a dark brow raised in question. Again, that was clearly not what he was expecting.

“What do you mean?”

“Watch.”

Glancing down the corridor once more to make sure no one was around, she held out her hand again and silently uttered an incantation, conjuring a bluebell flame into the palm of her hand. It stung a bit but she knew it wouldn’t burn her. She was just pleased to know that she could still conjure it without a wand.

A look of awe spread across his face, his eyes filling with excitement as they flicked from the flame to her face.

She couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction as she snuffed the flame out just as quickly, closing her hand and returning it to her side.

“How did you do that?”

“I honestly don’t know,” she shrugged, feigning ignorance. “I’ve always been able to do weird things like that. I accidentally set my whole bed on fire once after a particularly nasty nightmare.”

Stepping out of the way, the boy ushered her into his room before closing the door behind them. When he turned back to face her, he opened his mouth and began to speak in a language that she couldn’t understand but recognized immediately. It was Parseltongue. She had heard Harry speak it enough times to know.

Soon enough, a common garden snake came slithering out from beneath his bed and over to him. Winding its way up his leg, the snake came up and wrapped itself around his neck, rubbing up against his cheek as if it was as harmless as a cat.

“You can speak to snakes?” she asked with a gasp.

He nodded, petting the snake’s spine. “Like you, I’ve always been able to do weird things. Not only can I speak to snakes, but I can make other animals do what I want them to. I can also do things like making people trip over thin air and knock them out when they bother me.”

It briefly flitted through her mind that he might have done that to her had she not managed to get his interest, but she put it from her mind. The less she thought about the possible outcomes, the better. There really was no way to predict how he would react.

“I’ve never met anyone who could do things like me,” she admitted. “Even my parents didn’t understand it… They were thinking about sending me away before… well, before they died.”

McGonagall had gone into any real detail about her backstory, so she figured that she was free to make it up as she went, though she did still want to stick as closely to the truth as she could. The part about her parents never understanding her abilities as a child was true. However, they had never been so cruel as to want to send her away.

“I haven’t either. You’re the first one. I understand what you mean, though. Mrs. Cole wants to send me away as well because she knows I’m different. I would try to keep your abilities a secret from her if you can.”

“I’ll take that into consideration… I’m sorry, but I never got your name.”

“I’m Tom Riddle,” he said, extending his hand to her.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Tom,” she took the offered hand and shook it. “I think the two of us are going to get along just fine after all.”

The corners of his lips tugged up into a slight smirk. “I agree.”


	4. Dumbledore's Visit

Hermione sighed as she wiped the sweat from her brow, pausing for a moment before resuming her chore of washing the floor. She had been at it for over an hour now and she was nowhere close to even being done.

Weeks had passed since her arrival and she was still struggling to get used to her new life. When she first heard that she would be going back in time to befriend Tom Riddle as a child, she had assumed that it would be easy. After all, how hard could it be? Clearly she had no idea just how hard it would be.

Life at Wool’s Orphanage was anything but pleasant. She had heard that orphans were often mistreated in this time, but she never quite understood until she was one herself. At the very least she could say that her days were not boring, as they were filled with lots of chores and lessons, leaving little time for leisure.

Each day basically consisted of the same routine.

Wake-up calls came at 6:30 AM, after which they would dress and line up to use the bathrooms. Then, they would head down to breakfast, which consisted of little else than porridge and the occasional piece of dry bread. After that, they were made to go back upstairs to tidy their rooms. Each morning, Mrs. Cole would come around and inspect the tidiness of each individual room. If you happened to pass her inspection, then you were given chores to do. If not… Let’s just say that she learned very quickly that Mrs. Cole did not tolerate any untidiness…

Once you were done with your chores, then you would attend classes. Hermione didn’t usually attend, seeing as she already knew how to read and write, but occasionally she would help some of the other children with their learning.

Dinner was at 8:00 PM and then it was straight off to bed. Needless to say, it was not a particularly exciting life and she longed for the day when she could leave this place behind and return to Hogwarts. 

She now finally understood just what Harry had gone through at the Dursleys and why he dreaded going home each summer. She feared that she would dread it just as much.

At the thought of Harry, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of homesickness. Many nights she had cried herself to sleep, wishing that she could see Harry and Ron again for even just a minute. How she wished for a comforting hug and a gentle reassurance, telling her that everything would be alright. Alas, she knew that was not something she was going to get.

Shaking those thoughts from her head, she forced herself to focus on the task at hand, reminding herself that the sooner she finished washing the floor, the sooner she could go up to her room and relax. She didn’t exactly have anything to do in her room, but it was still better than scrubbing floors until your hands hurt.

Eventually, she finished washing the floor, or at the very least, the part of it that she had been assigned to clean. With a nod of approval from Mrs. Cole, she headed upstairs, keen on taking a short nap. 

She had just reached the second stairwell when she caught sight of Tom. It would appear that it was his job to wash the floor in the corridors. He hadn’t noticed her as he was facing the opposite way, but she could see that he was tired. His poor body was trembling with fatigue and she couldn’t help but notice that his hands and knees were scraped and bloodied, a sure sign that Mrs. Cole had scolded him again.

It was moments like these when she found herself conflicted. She knew of all the horrible things this boy would grow up to do and yet she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He was just a child, forced to endure torture unlike the rest of the children in the orphanage. For he was the only one she had ever found with any sort of markings on his skin. The others were left untouched for the most part.

As tired and miserable as she was, she picked up another bucket and washcloth and knelt down beside him to help.

“If you’re tempted to give up, think about how one day we’ll be gone from this place and we’ll never have to scrub floors again,” she whispered to him encouragingly.

He glanced over at her, a flicker of surprise passing through his eyes before he nodded and glanced back down again.

Together they managed to finish the corridor in record time. Hermione felt like collapsing after that, but she held herself together as they put away their cleaning supplies, tucking them into a nearby cupboard.

As soon as that was done, she headed over to the bathroom, which fortunately didn’t have a line-up at the moment, and wet a towel before making her way back over to Tom and using it to wipe his wounds.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Tom asked. “You already know that I won’t do anything bad to you.”

She nodded her head. “I know that, but it’s what friends do.”

_“Friends?”_

The word sounded almost foreign coming from his mouth. It clearly wasn’t a word he used often. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was a word he had even heard before.

“Well yes, I like to think that you’re my friend,” she claimed. “After all, you’re really the only person who bothers to talk to me, let alone understand what I’m capable of.”

He didn’t reply to that as he seemed to be deep in thought, but didn’t stop her from cleaning his cuts and scrapes. The slightest wince every now and then let her know that he wasn’t completely unresponsive.

When she was done, she tucked the cloth into her pocket. She stayed there with him for a few moments, waiting for him to say something. After a while, she began to suspect that he wasn’t going to say anything. She had just turned and was about to head off to her room, when she felt a hand wrap around her wrist.

“You like books, right?”

Turning back to face him, she was surprised to see that he actually looked rather nervous. She was taken aback by this. Tom Marvolo Riddle, as in the future Lord Voldemort, was actually standing here before her, nervously asking her if she liked books. She was tempted to laugh, but stopped herself from doing so, as she didn’t think it was a good idea.

“I love books.”

Her response seemed to calm whatever nerves he had.

“I got a book from the library last week, and I… would you care to read it with me?”

Again, she was taken by surprise. It seemed that he too could be full of surprises.

Smiling up at him, she nodded her head eagerly. “I’d love to!”

It wasn’t nearly as full as her own, but he did manage to smile back at her a bit.

Now, she wasn’t exactly sure, for Tom wasn’t the easiest person to understand, but she got the feeling that this was his way of telling her that he did in fact want to be her friend. At the very least, he wanted to spend time with her, and that was good enough for her.

Feeling happy with the progress she was making with him, she followed him to his room, shutting the door behind them.

Tom picked up a rather thick hardcover book from his desk and climbed up onto his bed, patting the space next to him for her to join. Once the two of them were situated on the tiny bed, laying on their stomachs next to each other, they flipped open the book and began to read.

“Let me know when you’re finished with a page and I’ll turn it over.”

She found that, much to her delight, Tom was almost just as fast as her at reading. Not only that, but she found it thoroughly enjoyable to just read in silence with him. There weren’t a lot of people she could make such a claim about. She had always found it difficult to read with Harry and Ron around, as they were always making noise or asking her questions. It was nice to have someone who enjoyed the peace and quiet of reading just as much as she did.

They had read for over an hour and were almost done the whole book, when a knock suddenly came at the door.

Startling out of her book induced fantasy state, she looked around in a panic for somewhere to hide. If it was Mrs. Cole, and she couldn’t come up with any other ideas as to who would be knocking, she would surely scold her for being caught in Tom’s bedroom and maybe even punished. Mrs. Cole didn’t exactly like her spending time with him.

“Behind the door,” he whispered to her.

Nodding her head at the suggestion, she quickly climbed off the bed and dashed into the corner of the room where she knew she would be hidden from view.

A moment later, the door opened. Hermione held out her hands to stop the door from smashing into her.

“Tom, you’ve got a visitor,” Mrs. Cole said. “This is Mr. Dumberton... sorry, Dunderbore. He’s come to tell you… well, I’ll let him do it.”

It didn’t take Hermione long to figure out who Mrs. Cole was talking about. 

Dumbledore... Not only was he alive, but he was in this very room with her and Tom. Having heard the story from Harry, she knew all about how Dumbledore himself had come to Tom to tell him about Hogwarts. Surely she had forgotten about him with everything that had happened since her arrival.

She heard a pair of heavy footsteps enter the room, presumably belonging to Dumbledore, followed shortly after by the sound of Mrs. Cole’s heels clicking away, closing the door on her way out.

“Oh good, you’re both here,” Dumbledore said, turning to Hermione with a kind smile. “This will make my job easier.”

Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of her former headmaster.

He was younger and much more vibrant looking. His long hair and beard which had once been as white as snow were now auburn and he was wearing a rather bizarre looking plum velvet suit.

“Miss Granger, I presume?”

She could only nod her head in reply as she momentarily found herself unable to speak. 

“Who are you?” Tom asked, causing them both to return their focus to him. “What do you want with me and Hermione?”

Stepping towards him, Dumbledore held out his hand to Tom, who made no effort to take it. After a few moments, Dumbledore retracted his hand and pulled up the wooden chair to sit down.

“I am Professor Dumbledore.”

“Professor?” both Tom and Hermione repeated.

That was right. Dumbledore wasn’t the headmaster at this time. If she wasn’t mistaken, he had taught Transfiguration before Professor McGonagall.

“Is that like ‘doctor’?” Tom asked warily. “Did she send for you to have a look at us?”

Dumbledore shook his head. “No, no.”

Tom didn’t believe him, and now that she knew what he had gone through, and even experienced a taste of it for herself, she could honestly say that she understood why. It was hard for such a child to trust adults when the only adult he had grown up with abused him terribly.

“Who are you? Tell the truth!” he insisted, glaring at the man with glare so intense that it gave Hermione goosebumps.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore seemed completely unfazed by Tom, as he just sat there smiling pleasantly at him. “I do not lie. My name is Professor Dumbledore and I work at a school called Hogwarts. I have come to offer both of you a place at my school.”

What Tom did next once more surprised her. Leaping from his bed, he rushed past Dumbledore and over to her, stretching his body out as if to shield her from the professor.

“You can’t fool me! The asylum, that’s where you’re from, isn’t it?” he declared. “We’re not going and you can’t make us!”

She could hardly believe it… Had she really had that much of an impact on Tom that he would try to protect her, be it rather unnecessary, from a man he believed wished to harm them? It seemed too good to be true, and yet it appeared to be true nonetheless.

Fortunately, Dumbledore was nothing if not a patient man. “I am a teacher and, if you will both sit down calmly, I shall tell you about Hogwarts. Of course, if you would rather not come to the school, nobody will force you-”

“I’d like to see them try,” Tom cut him off.

Sensing that he wasn’t about to listen to anything Dumbledore had to say the way he currently was, Hermione reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. She felt him tense momentarily under her touch, but soon relaxed as he realized it was just her. The poor boy really was paranoid and in desperate need of help.

“Tom, it’s okay,” she assured him. “I don’t think this man means to hurt us. I’m not saying we should trust him entirely, but we should at least hear what he has to say.”

After a moment, Tom finally gave in and dropped his arms, starting back towards the bed with her following shortly after him, sitting down on the bed next to each other. Tom kept his eyes on Dumbledore, but didn’t say a word more.

Professor Dumbledore then launched into the usual explanation about how Hogwarts was a school of magic, where young witches and wizards could come and learn to hone their special abilities. Tom was skeptical at first, still convinced that Dumbledore thought he was mad, but gradually started to calm down around him when he began to explain magic to them.

As they talked, Hermione couldn’t help but remember the day she first discovered magic back in her own time. 

She had been much the same age as she currently was when none other than Professor McGonagall came to visit her and her parents at their home in Heathgate, Hampstead. At first she had been intimidated by the stern looking woman, but she quickly warmed up to her as she told her all about the wonders of magic.

With such memories at the forefront of her mind, she did her best to mimic the same reactions to what Dumbledore was telling her now.

Every now and then she would sneak a glance over at Tom to see how he was reacting to all of this. Harry had described to her how thrilled he had been to learn that he was a wizard, and while she did see a bit of excitement present, it wasn’t nearly as profound as Harry had made it sound. She wasn’t sure if it was just her own hopefulness, but she wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that she had already shown him some of her own magic.

When he was finished speaking he took out his wand and pointed it towards the small wardrobe in the far corner. No sooner had he done so than a rattling sound came from deep within.

“I think there is something trying to get out of your wardrobe.”

Tom hesitated briefly but crossed the room and opened the door to it. Much like her own, it was bare, save for a couple odd pieces of clothing. On the very top shelf there was a small cardboard box, shaking quite uncontrollably.

Hermione couldn’t help but glance at Dumbledore apprehensively. What was he playing at? Why would he be concerned with the few belongings that Tom had in this world?

“Take it out,” the professor instructed.

With trembling hands, Tom plucked the box from it’s shelf and brought it back over. There was something unsettling in Dumbledore’s eyes as he silently motioned for the boy to show him what was inside. Whatever it was, Hermione didn’t like that particular look.

Lifting the lid off the box, Hermione was confused to find that there was nothing much out of the ordinary inside; a red yo-yo, a silver thimble and a tarnished mouth organ. The way Dumbledore was acting, she had half-expected there to be something terrible inside like a human skull.

“Thieving is not tolerated at Hogwarts.”

Her eyes widened slightly. Were these actually things that Tom had stolen? It didn’t quite make sense to her as to why he would go through the trouble of stealing such ordinary objects? She might not have known him long, but she felt she knew him well enough to know that he had little interest in much else than reading.

“Yes, sir,” Tom said in a voice that lacked any and all emotion.

Dumbledore then turned to face her. “Is there anything you wish to admit to, Miss Granger?”

She suddenly felt as though the air had been stolen from her lungs as she felt her body stiffen. Surely she had heard wrong… It couldn’t be… Why would Dumbledore think so badly of her? And how did he even know that Tom had stolen those things.

Maybe it was the result of the lingering resentment she felt towards him at forcing her to make this trip into the past, but his insinuation left her feeling angry.

“No, sir,” she practically spat at him.

Nodding his head, he relented in his accusations and reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a pair of identical letters, both bearing the seal of Hogwarts.

As they read their letters, Dumbledore explained all about their student fund for school supplies and how they would need to go to Diagon Alley to purchase what they needed. Dumbledore offered to take the two of them himself, but Tom shot his offer down without hesitation, insisting that they would be just fine on their own. 

“When you find the Leaky Cauldron, you must go inside and ask for Tom the barman. Easy enough to remember, as he shares your name.”

She noticed the way that Tom’s lips twitched irritably at the mention. Harry had mentioned that he always hated his name.

Once they had all that they needed, Dumbledore got up from the chair, pushing it back towards the desk and headed for the door.

“I look forward to seeing you both on the first of September.”

Then, without further ado, he left.

Hermione let out a deep breath as she collapsed back onto the bed. Perhaps it was just the chores catching up with her, but Dumbledore’s visit had left her feeling exhausted. She had never known Dumbledore to treat children so suspiciously. Well, no that wasn’t entirely true. He had never been entirely truthful with her and Harry as they were growing up, always hiding things from them, but he had never treated them like this.

“I don’t trust him.”

She nodded her head in agreement, when a previous question came back to mind.

“Did you really steal those objects?”

He didn’t reply for the first while as he stared blankly at the contents inside of the box. Reaching in, he picked up the tarnished mouth organ and held it up for her to see. 

“This is the only object I own in the whole world. Mrs. Cole found it in my mother’s pocket. She said it belonged to my father.”

Turning it over, he showed her the inscription on it. Inscribed in neat letters was the name _‘Thomas Riddle’_.

She didn’t know what to say to that. Considering the fact that she probably knew more about his parents than he did at the moment, she decided not to say anything at all about it.

“And the other two?” she asked. “They don’t seem like things you’d be particularly interested in.”

The tips of his mouth tugged up ever so slightly at that. “You’re right. They were lying around in the room when I got here, left by its previous occupant no doubt.”

Well, at the very least it was a relief to know that he hadn’t actually stolen anything. Though that didn’t answer why Dumbledore had accused him of stealing in the first place. The only thing she could think of was that maybe Merope had stolen the mouth organ from Tom Riddle Sr and that Dumbledore had brought it up to try and encourage Tom not to follow in his family’s particularly twisted footsteps. 

Again, Dumbledore never had been easy to understand.

“Do you think he was telling the truth? About the school he mentioned and about magic?”

“Yes, I think he was. I mean, how else would you explain what we can do?” she answered without hesitation. “He’s offering us a chance to leave this place, maybe not permanently as we’d probably return over summer holidays, but we’d still be gone for the whole school year.

The thought of that certainly seemed to brighten his mood as a full fledged smirk spread across his face. “I suppose it would be worth it to be able to leave the old cat behind.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say, Tom! An insult of the worst kind to all cats!”

Tom did something that she had never seen him do before. He laughed, and it wasn’t at all like she expected. It wasn’t evil or maniacal at all. It was actually a rather pleasant sound. She couldn’t help but join in. As mean as it seemed to say, she couldn’t exactly deny that Mrs. Cole was deserving of the joke.


	5. Diagon Alley

The streets of London were much like Hermione remembered them and yet different at the same time. It was strange to see so many cars that would have been considered antiques in her time, and so many people wearing clothing that she had only ever seen before in museums. The whole world was like a museum to her, and while she had never been the most enthused by history, it was still fascinating to her.

While the streets were crowded with people dressed to the nines with an assortment of fancy furs and hats, there were a few of those who were considerably less privileged. Every now and then she would spot a group of beggars poking their heads out of alleyways, holding up tin cans as they pleaded for even so much as a bread crumb.

It broke her heart to see such things and made her feel rather guilty for grumbling about her own life. Sure, she was stuck in an orphanage where she was made to slave away for Mrs. Cole, but she still had a roof over her head and two half-way decent meals a day. These people had neither of those things.

She had to force herself to look away, ignoring their cries for help as she followed after Tom down the sidewalk. _There will always be those who are homeless and hungry in the world,_ she thought. As much as she would like to help everyone, it was impossible for her to do so. If she succeeded in her mission, she would save the lives of many who had perished in her time. That is enough, she told herself.

“Where did the professor say that we were supposed to go again?” Hermione asked, focusing her full attention at the task at hand.

Tom, who was holding the piece of paper that Dumbledore had given them with directions, was looking this way and that to find something. “It’s called the Leaky Cauldron and apparently it’s supposed to be at the end of this street, next to a barber shop.

“Though, I wouldn’t be surprised if he gave us the wrong directions.” Tom added cryptically.

Initially she had expected to know exactly where the Leaky Cauldron was located, seeing as she had been there many times, but it was becoming more and more clear to her that she didn’t remember it as well as she thought. She hadn’t accounted for the fact that London in 1938 was not the same as London in 1997.

They searched for a while longer without luck. Hermione had thought for sure that they would be able to spot it easily enough with a blue and red swirly pole standing out front, but there didn’t seem to be any such pole to be found. Eventually they gave up on searching and sat down to rest for a bit.

“Perhaps we ought to return to the orphanage,” Tom suggested. “I think it’s clear to see that this so-called professor was lying.”

He didn’t show it outright, but she could tell that he was disappointed. The thought of leaving the orphanage behind and entering a world of magic had delighted him just as much as it had her. However, she refused to give up so easily. Unlike him, she knew for a fact that this world did exist. They just had to find it.

She recalled what Dumbledore had told them, as well as her own memories of visiting the place. It was made purposefully difficult to find in order to keep muggles away. She imagined that the building itself wouldn’t have changed that much in fifty years, as it looked as though it came straight out of the dark ages.

She started searching again with that particular architecture style in mind. There were a couple of such buildings scattered across the street, but they all looked to be abandoned, making it difficult to determine which one was hiding a magical pub.

She was just about to look away when she suddenly saw a woman dressed in vibrant green robes much like she had seen witches and wizards wear, escorting a young boy towards one of the abandoned buildings.

“Look over there,” she nudged Tom, pointing the mother and son pair out to him. “The lady is wearing a witch hat.”

Before he even had time to fully process it, Hermione had grabbed him by the hand and led him off in the same direction.

The appearance of the building before them began to change with every step they took towards it. The windows which had previously been boarded up, were now in perfect condition with not so much as a crack in the glass and a sign appeared out of nowhere, hanging above the door that read ‘Leaky Cauldron’.

Hermione couldn’t contain her excitement as they waited for the woman and her son to slip inside before following after. She couldn’t wait to re-enter the wizarding world. Even though she was fifty-some years into the past, it still felt like home to her.

The moment they crossed the threshold inside, they were bombarded by the smell of alcohol mixed with smoke. It was by no means necessary pleasant, but it was familiar to her and made her feel oddly at ease. 

The pub wasn’t overly crowded, with only a handful of people scattered about, seated at tables with a bowl of stew and a mug of drink. It would have been no different than the average pub had it not been for the fact that the spoons were stirring by themselves and dishes were flying through the air to and from the tables.

“Excuse me, sir, but could you tell us where we might find Diagon Alley?” she asked the man at the bar. Much like Dumbledore, Tom the barman was quite a bit younger than she was used to, but it was still him. “Professor Dumbledore said that you might be able to help us.”

Turning to face them, he gave them a good look over. “A couple of first years, are you?”

They both nodded their heads.

“Very well, follow me.”

Silently they followed him behind the bar, through the storage room and out through the back door where they found themselves face to face with a brick wall.

“ _This_ is Diagon Alley?” Tom asked with a furrowed brow.

The barman shook his head as he pulled out his wand, which incidentally looked like nothing more than a long twin twig, and began to tap the wall with it. Hermione could still remember the exact combination. Three bricks up and two across.

“No, lad, _this_ is Diagon Alley.”

The bricks began to move all on their own, forming an archway that looked out onto the familiar cobblestone street she knew all too well. 

Her eyes sparkled with joy as she took in the sights. She had visited Diagon Alley many times before but somehow each time was just as exciting as the first. It was like going to a carnival. There were always new wonders to behold.

Remembering her own first time visiting, it wasn’t hard to imagine what Tom was feeling. She could clearly see the look of awe in his eyes. He was practically bursting with excitement, eager to explore every inch of the place. Then there was a part of him that hungered for the knowledge contained within this place. He yearned to learn everything there was to know about magic.

The more she got to know him, the more she realized that he really wasn’t all that different from her. As strange as it was that she could relate in such a way to the future Lord Voldemort, it was also rather nice. She had never met anyone who hungered for knowledge as much as she did.

With his hand still wrapped in hers, the two of them hurried off down the street, winding their way through the crowd of witches and wizards both young and old. They didn’t even cast a backward glance to see the archway closing in behind them.

Pulling out their school supply list, they decided to head to the bookstore first. Hermione led them straight to what might just be her favorite shop in all of Diagon Alley; Flourish and Blotts.

The necessary set books for first years were mostly similar to those she had in her original first year, save for a couple that hadn’t been written yet. Some of the information in the books was bound to be different as well and she was looking forward to comparing which publication was more accurate.

They had a bit of trouble figuring out how they were supposed to pay for everything, but then they remembered how Dumbledore had mentioned the school having a student fund. The shopkeeper explained to them that any and all of their purchases would be charged to the school’s account.

Next they went to get their uniforms. She was surprised to find that Madam Malkin’s wasn’t in existence yet. It really shouldn’t have come as that big of a shock to her though as she thought about it. Madam Malkin had seemed rather young. She wasn’t even sure if the kind witch was even born yet.

That meant that the only place to get robes was at Twilfitt and Tatting’s. 

Inside Twilfitt and Tatting’s there were many wizarding families standing around, some parents waiting as their children were fitted while others were waiting with their children to be fitted.

“Maybe we should come back later when it’s not as busy,” Tom suggested.

She shook her head. This being the only clothing shop in the entire alley, she had a feeling that it would be just as busy when they came back. 

“We have time. Unless you’re particularly eager to go back to Mrs. Cole?”

Tom pulled a face at that, causing her to giggle. She knew that would work.

Slowly but surely the line moved along and eventually it came their turn to be fitted. Stepping up onto the stools, they held their arms out, allowing the seamstress witches to take their measurements. Shortly after, another boy came up and joined them on the stool to Hermione’s left.

Hermione had to do a double take when she saw him. Upon first glance she could have sworn that she was standing next to none other than Draco Malfoy, but then she remembered where she was. It definitely wasn’t Draco. With a bit of a better look at him, she noticed that his features were different. His face wasn’t as pointed as Draco’s and his eyes were bright blue rather than silver.

Though the hair was much the same. Just as perfectly well kept as the ferret. She had always hated how envious she was of that hair.

She had gotten so carried away thinking about Malfoy that she noticed too little too late that she had been caught staring at the boy. When she finally snapped out of it, she found him smirking at her with a smug little look on his face.

“My name is Abraxas, Abraxas Malfoy,” he said. “And you are?”

Abraxas Malfoy… The name sounded vaguely familiar, as if she might have heard it or read it somewhere before. Judging by the fact that he was a Malfoy, she could only guess that she had heard Draco mention him. She wasn’t exactly sure how the two were related though.

“I’m Hermione, and this is my friend, Tom,” she greeted him, motioning to Tom on her other side.

Tom acknowledged Abraxas with no more than a brief nod of the head, to which Abraxas responded by copying the gesture. They clearly didn’t care too much about each other.

What Abraxas did next was not at all what Hermione had been expecting. Reaching out, he took hold of her hand and pressed his lips gently to the top before winking at her. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She was at a loss for how to feel about this. A part of her couldn’t help but blush, for though she knew he came from a long line of pureblood supremacist prats which would likely continue for at least two more generations, he was rather handsome and was certainly treating her better than his descendants ever had. Yet, at the same time a part of her felt disgusted as it registered in her brain that he was only being nice to her because he thought she was like him.

“You as well,” she forced herself to smile at him, not wanting to appear impolite. Realistically, she had no reason to be impolite to him, because she wasn’t meant to know anything about who he was or what his world was like. They were simply two children who had just met for the first time.

They talked little after that as they finished up with their individual fittings. She managed to wave goodbye to him before Tom grabbed her by the hand and pulled her away, reversing the roles from earlier. He didn’t let go until they were well away from the shop.

“I don’t like the way he looks at you,” Tom muttered.

She was floored by that. Could it be that Tom Riddle was jealous? The very idea sounded so ridiculous that she almost didn’t believe it. Then again, she supposed that it might not be all that ridiculous after all. He was very much human, capable of feeling different emotions, as he had proven to her in the last month or so that she had been with him. She couldn’t really fault him for being protective over the only real friend he had ever had.

“Don’t worry, Tom,” she assured him. “You’re not going to lose me that easily.”

He waved off her concern, but she saw the corners of his lips tugging up. There was no use hiding from her. It was clear that he was happy to hear that.

Their next stop was undoubtedly the highlight of the trip; getting their wands. Tom had gotten the same wand she knew him to have as Lord Voldemort. It was 13½ inches long, crafted of yew wood with a phoenix feather core. That wasn’t all that surprising to her.

What was surprising was the wand that had chosen her...

When she first walked into Ollivander’s, she had been expecting to get her old wand back. The very wand she had used for years had been placed into her hands, but for some strange reason, it just didn’t seem to connect with her like it had the first time around. She tried wand after wand after that and none of them seemed to have that spark.

Then, Ollivander finally pulled out yet another wand that she knew well. 11 inches long, crafted of holly wood with a phoenix feather core. It was also the exact same wand that would have belonged to Harry. She hadn’t meant to connect with it… It just happened…

 _“The wand chooses the witch, Miss Granger,”_ Ollivander had told her.

She was hesitant to take it at first, fearing that her doing so might somehow prevent Harry from being born, but relented in the end as she didn’t want to raise any suspicion from Tom or Ollivander. In the end, she was grateful to have Harry’s wand this time around as it would serve as a reminder of her brave old friend.

Tom was all too pleased that she had ended up with the sibling of his wand. 

Before long, they had finished the rest of their shopping, checking off every last item from their list. They knew that they ought to return to the orphanage soon, lest they miss supper, but neither of them were quite ready to leave yet and so they decided to just look around for a while longer. 

Hermione had to admit that it was actually quite nice having someone to experience the magic of Diagon Alley with. In the past, or rather the future, she always went with her parents, and while she loved them dearly, it just wasn’t the same. They didn’t understand the world of magic as she did. They found it all confusing and overwhelming. She was constantly having to explain everything to them. It was nice not having to explain everything for once.

“What’s down there?”

Noticing that Tom had stopped walking, she followed his gaze to see what it was that had caught his attention.

She had to shut her mouth tightly to stop herself from gasping. They were standing right in front of the entrance to Knockturn Alley. She should have known as much. How could she have been so stupid? Of course Knockturn Alley of all places would catch his attention!

“I don’t know, but it certainly doesn’t look like a nice place,” she said with a gulp. “I think we should get out of here.”

She started to walk away but was stopped as Tom reached out to pull her back.

“Honestly, Tom, I don’t think we should go in there.”

“Why not? It’s a part of Diagon Alley, isn’t it? Why would it be here if we weren’t allowed to go in?”

She had to admit that there was some logic behind that. Why did the wizarding world let Knockturn Alley exist if dark magic was against the law? Surely the ministry wasn't so blind? Perhaps it was the result of pureblood witches and wizards bribing the ministry to turn the other way? That definitely sounded like something the Malfoy’s would do.

She let out a sigh. There was no use trying to fight him on this. She knew that he would find a way to sneak down there no matter what she did or said. Still, it was her job to make sure that he didn’t go down the same path as before, and so it fell to her to follow him and make sure nothing happened. _I suppose I can always stun him if things get out of hand,_ she thought.

“Alright,” she gave in, “we can see what’s down there.”

Knockturn Alley was just as creepy as she remembered with cobwebs in every corner and old hags selling severed fingers for a galleon a piece. There were all sorts of horrible shops down there dealing with everything with everything from necromancy to poisons. Though, to be fair, there were a few shops that weren’t quite so bad that dealt in everyday potion ingredients as well as cauldrons.

Then they found themselves standing before the worst shop of them all; Borgin and Burke’s. This was the shop that Tom would one day work at after graduating from Hogwarts. _Not on my watch, he won’t,_ she vowed to herself. However, she knew that wouldn’t be happening for years and so she allowed herself to relax a bit.

Tom was just about to open the shop door when they heard a voice call out to them. “What are you two doing down here? Surely you know that this area is off limits to all first and second years.”

Stopping dead in their tracks, they turned and saw a man approaching. He looked rather like Snape with long dark hair, pale skin and dark eyes, only much more handsome and much less greasy. She wasn’t sure who he was but judging by the fancy robes he wore, she had to assume that he was someone of importance.

Whoever he was, she had a bad feeling about this...

“I’m sorry, sir, but this is our first time here and we got lost,” Tom explained. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t entirely true either.

The man raised a single arched brow at that. “Is that so? Well then, allow me to escort you back to safety.”

Leaving the two children with no time to object, he promptly turned and started back the way he had come, motioning for them to follow. Despite the heavy robes that looked as though they would slow him down, he was actually surprisingly fast and they had to break out into a run just to catch up with him.

He led them back to the steps that led back up to Diagon Alley, where he finally came to a halt and turned back to face them.

“I do not want to see the two of you down there ever again, do I make myself clear?” he asked them.

They nodded their heads in unison.

“Good,” he said with a sigh.

They started up the stairs, their legs moving as if someone was controlling them, and as she thought about it, she considered that perhaps that was indeed the case. Reaching the top step, she turned back to see if the man had his wand out or could be seen reciting an incantation, but he was already gone.

Who was that man? He had left without so much as telling them his name. What was he? He dressed like a wizard and yet there was something about him that indicated otherwise. And why did she get the feeling that he had just saved them from something horrible?

“Can we leave now?” she asked.

This time, Tom agreed without hesitance. He looked just as confused and startled as she was.


	6. Hogwarts Express

The day had come at last. Hermione had created something of a calendar with a piece of paper and pencil, marking down the days until the first of September, the day when her and Tom would escape from the orphanage and the clutches of Mrs. Cole to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

She was so excited that she had hardly slept the night prior.

It was probably one of the best days of their young lives. Exempt from the usual chores of the day, Mrs. Cole left them to their own devices for most of the morning as they gathered their few belongings along with their school supplies into the suitcase that they had each been given.

They left Wool's Orphanage behind without so much as a glance backward, making their way across London to the Kings Cross Train Station.

It was a quarter past ten when they arrived, trudging off the bus with their luggage in tow. The train station was packed with muggles as it always was no matter the year. Making their way through the crowd, Hermione dug out her Hogwarts letter, pulling her ticket out of the envelope.

"It says we need to head to Platform 9¾," she read aloud.

Tom's face scrunched up in confusion. "I may not know much about train stations, but I know enough to know for a fact that there is no such thing as Platform 9¾."

She merely shrugged, showing him the ticket with the platform number on it. Nibbling on her bottom lip, she had to force down the urge to tell him exactly where it was and how to get through it. Of course, she couldn't tell him because she wasn't meant to know herself. Playing dumb was a lot harder than it seemed.

With not much else to go on, they headed towards platforms nine and ten. Much to their surprise, and in particular hers, there was a ticket booth sitting next to the very spot where she knew the barrier to be. Upon first glance the booth appeared to be boarded up and empty, but upon closer observation, she spotted a man inside that looked very much like a wizard.

Such a sight came as a relief to her as she had feared that they would have to wait around until a magical family came along and showed them how to get through. That was what happened the first time she had come here with her parents. If only this ticket booth had been around at that time. It would have made things a whole lot easier.

She briefly wondered why they had gotten rid of it, but cast it off to the side as she figured it wasn't all that important. She was just thankful to have it here and now.

"Excuse me, sir, but could you tell us how we might find Platform 9¾?" she marched up to the booth.

The man nodded his head. Climbing out of the booth, he pointed towards the wall beside him.

"All you have to do is run straight at this here wall, best do it with your eyes closed if you're nervous," the man explained.

Tom stared at the wall and then over at the man, bewildered at what he had just heard. "That has got to be one of _the_ most stupid things I've ever heard."

She couldn't blame him for thinking that, as she had originally had the same reaction. It seemed totally barbaric that they expected a bunch of children to run straight into a brick wall, and even more so for those with muggle parents who were none the wiser to magic.

"I don't suppose there's any other way to access the platform?"

The man just shook his head.

The two of them took a few steps back, mentally preparing themselves to go through with this. Tom insisted that she go first, just to see if it actually worked. Had she not been sure that it would, she might have yelled at him for using her as a test subject.

With a deep breath, she picked up her suitcase, gripping it tightly as she sprinted at the wall, pulling her eyes closed seconds before she felt herself go through. For the briefest of moments, she felt as though she was floating in mid air, kind of like she had felt when she travelled back in time, only it didn't last nearly as long and it didn't make her feel like vomiting.

She opened her eyes as soon as she knew that she was safely on the other side. A smile tugged at her lips as she took in the sight of the shiny red steam engine, smoke from the engine hanging in the air enveloping the crowd of witches and wizards as they scrambled around the train.

Soon she would be going home to Hogwarts.

Stepping away from the barrier, she didn't have to wait long as Tom came running through a moment later, his eyes wide and his face as pale as a bedsheet.

"I can't believe that actually worked."

She stifled a giggle, to which he gave her a halfhearted glare.

The two of them made their way through the crowd, trying not to get jostled too much as they searched for an empty compartment. As if by instinct, Hermione headed towards the back of the train where she had always sat with Harry and Ron, but then she stopped as she remembered that there were no Harry and Ron waiting for her.

They didn't even exist yet and wouldn't for another forty-some years…

She quickly shook all such thoughts from her mind and forced herself to focus on the present, something that she had done on many occasions since her arrival. I'm not alone, she silently reassured herself. _Tom is my friend now and I need to focus on helping him._

Wishing to avoid the memories that came with that particular compartment, Hermione quickly made a beeline towards the first empty compartment she could find, two compartments away from the one she usually sat in. Together they managed to load their suitcases inside, strapping them onto the shelves before sitting down next to each other.

With a good twenty minutes to waste before the train took off, Hermione and Tom pulled out a big book titled _'Hogwarts: A History'_ and began to read. They had spent most of their free time back at the orphanage reading all their school books in preparation. Hermione had already read all the books before, but still she re-read them to keep up appearances. They even practiced a few simple spells together in secret, which was a lot of fun.

Had she been told that she would one day find herself not only befriending Tom Riddle, but also thoroughly enjoying his company, she probably wouldn't have believed it. It was funny how these things worked.

Then, the train began to move. There was an uproar of noise as the whistle blew and everyone flocked to the windows to wave farewell to those they left behind in the station. Well, everyone except Tom and Hermione, that is. They didn't see the need to, seeing as they didn't have anyone to leave behind. Nobody would miss them while they were gone during the school year, nor would they miss anybody. They were just too happy to be leaving.

Gradually everyone quietened down and while most of the students returned to their seats, some got up and started walking around.

One such student, a second year dressed in Gryffindor robes, caught sight of them and poked her head in. Hermione thought that there was something familiar about the girl, as if she knew her from somewhere, but couldn't put her finger on where exactly.

"Hello there, you must be first years," the girl greeted them with a smile. "I saw you come in earlier and noticed that you were all alone. Would you mind if I joined you?"

Tom briefly acknowledged her with a shrug before returning his focus to the book they were reading.

Taking that as a sign, the girl sat down across from them, straightening out the folds of her skirt as she did so. No one spoke for the first few minutes, as each seemed to be waiting for the other to start.

In the end, it was Hermione who broke the silence, realizing that Tom wasn't about to do so anytime soon. "I'm Hermione Granger and this is my friend, Tom Riddle," she introduced, holding her hand out towards the girl.

"It's nice to meet you Hermione and Tom," she eagerly took the hand and shook it. "I'm Minerva McGonagall."

Hermione felt her whole body go rigid with shock. She could hardly believe her ears. The girl sitting before them was none other than her future Transfiguration Professor, Minerva McGonagall! She felt half like shrieking in delight and half like crying. She had expected that McGonagall might be around during this time, but she hadn't expected her to be so young and… a student…

"Are you alright? Did I say something to offend you?" Minerva asked, a worried expression across her face.

"No, no, not at all," she quickly shook her head. "I'm sorry, I-I'm just not used to older girls being nice to me."

It wasn't the greatest excuse, but it was the only one she could come up with on the spur of the moment.

"I understand what you mean. Some of the sixth and seventh years aren't the nicest. The head girl, Walburga Black, is particularly nasty. Thinks she's the queen of the world or something."

Hermione gulped. She knew all too well just how nasty Walburga Black could be, having been at the forefront of one of her portrait's screaming sessions. How someone like Sirius had come from someone like Walburga was beyond her comprehension. She was going to have to be awfully careful this year and try to avoid her. There was no doubt in her mind that Walburga would show no mercy in punishing those who happened to be in her way.

"So, are you two looking forward to Hogwarts?" Minerva asked, quickly abandoning the previous topic. "I was a bit nervous when I first arrived, but everyone in my house is really nice and made me feel right at home."

Hermione was about to open her mouth to answer, when she heard the compartment door slide open. Standing there was the same boy they had met at Twilfit and Tattings. It was Abaxas Malfoy.

"There you two are!" he came in and sat down next to them without even asking if he could. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Here we are," Tom spoke up for the first time since they had boarded the train.

"You know this boy?"

Only then did Abraxas notice the girl sitting across from them. "What do you think you're doing?" he sneered at her, eyeing the color of her robes. "Are you trying to recruit all the first years for Gryffindor or something?"

"I take it you're hoping to be sorted elsewhere."

The pale-haired boy puffed out his chest. "Of course, I intend to be sorted into the best house of them all. My whole family has been sorted into Slytherin for generations."

Hermione was sorely tempted to punch Abraxas in the nose just like she had his supposed grandson. Clearly the apple didn't fall far from the tree when it came to the Malfoy's. Abraxas was just as full of himself as both his son and grandson would be.

"I reckon my friends here want the same," Abraxas added.

Minerva rolled her eyes at the boy's antics. "It's not for you to decide for them."

They both turned their full attention towards the two of them, and though they didn't say it outright, Hermione could tell that they wanted to know their house preference.

Hermione had thought long and hard on which house she thought she might be sorted into. Obviously, she loved being a Gryffindor, but somehow she didn't know if she wanted to be one this time around. It wouldn't be the same without Harry and Ron and would bring far too many memories. No, it would be better for her to be sorted into a different house.

"I was thinking that Slytherin might be a good fit for me," Tom claimed. "I quite like snakes."

When moments passed and she failed to make a reply, Tom turned to her as well, staring at her with an odd look in his eye. It wasn't a look she had ever seen on him before, so she was unable to discern what it meant.

"None of the houses seem bad from what I read about them, but I was thinking it might be nice to be in either Ravenclaw or Slytherin."

Her answer clearly pleased both of the boys. Minerva, on the other hand, did not seem pleased at all. If anything, she looked rather put out.

"You see, some people are capable of recognizing greatness when they see it."

"Well then, I guess it's safe to say that you're all a bunch of lost causes," Minerva leapt from her seat, her nostrils flared as she stalked out of the compartment.

Hermione felt as though someone had stabbed her through the heart. Now more than ever she wanted to punch Malfoy. He had just caused the woman who would grow up to become her role model to hate her! She wanted to run out after McGonagall and explain to her that she really didn't want to be in Slytherin and that she didn't agree with Malfoy at all, but at the same time, she also didn't want to leave Tom alone with Malfoy. Who knows how much that pompous prat might influence him if she gave him half a chance.

Leaning over, she whispered in Tom's ear, "We don't have to put up with him if you don't want to."

Tom shook his head. "He's less annoying than the girl. I'd rather sit with him than with her."

She was surprised by that to say the least. After their previous encounter in Diagon Alley, she had been under the impression that they didn't like each other. Apparently she was mistaken.

She let out a sigh. Boys could be so difficult to understand sometimes.


	7. The Sorting Ceremony

Night had fallen by the time they reached Hogsmeade Station. Hermione was the first to awaken, rising with the sound of the groundskeepers' call for the first years. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she went to get up, only to stop short as she realized that she couldn't exactly move. Not only was the book they had been reading still laying open on her lap, but there was a sleepy dark-haired boy sleeping with his head on her shoulder.

Craning her neck to glance over at him, she couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. The fact that he had let himself fall asleep on her could only be seen as a sign of trust. She doubted that the typically paranoid boy would do such a thing with anyone else. It was endearing. He looked so innocent and peaceful. Sometimes she forgot about the man that she knew he would become one day.

 _Not on my watch,_ she thought.

And then there was Abraxas. Stretched out on the opposite seat, she was torn between loathing him with a passion and blushing like a lovesick schoolgirl every time he winked at her. She preferred the former.

Why, oh why did she have to get stuck with a Malfoy? And a flirty one at that! What was wrong with him? He was only eleven-years-old for crying out loud! Draco certainly wasn't like that at that age, or at least not that she had ever noticed. Though, she supposed it could have been different because unlike Abraxas, Draco actually knew the truth of her parentage.

As tempted as she was to just tell him the truth, that she was a muggleborn, sending him running for the hills, she knew that wasn't the wisest course of action in this particular situation. Tom was going to be surrounded by Slytherins just like Malfoy who would probably gladly hex her for being a muggleborn. For the sake of her own safety, as well as her mission, she had decided to keep her true parentage a secret, passing herself off as a half-blood instead.

"Calling all first years!" the groundskeeper's voice called out.

The light of the groundskeepers' lantern shone through their window, shining right in their eyes and awakening the sleeping boys.

"Have we arrived?" Abraxas asked with a yawn.

Hermione nodded her head as she got to her feet and began stretching out all her stiff muscles.

Thankfully they had all changed into their robes before they fell asleep otherwise they would have been left scrambling.

"Please leave your luggage on board!"

Climbing out of the compartment one by one, they had to fight their way against the stream through the crowd and over to where a group of first years had gathered around a grimey looking man in a pair of bright orange suspenders, or maybe they were yellow. It was hard to tell in that light. He hardly compared to the jolliness of Hagrid, but he looked friendly enough.

"If that's all of you, then we'll be on our way," said the groundskeeper whose name was Ogg.

It was a long trek up the path to the clearing and most of the students were moaning and yawning through most of it, still half-asleep, but unlike the others, Hermione had never felt more awake, for she knew that Hogwarts was waiting for them at the end.

And there it was…

A chorus and ooh's and ah's filled the night air as the students took in the sight for the first time in their lives.

Set atop of a majestic mountain was Hogwarts Castle itself with its many turrets and towers. The only thing separating them from the castle was the glistening waters of the Black Lake, the boats already waiting for them by the shore to take them across.

Hermione recalled her own first time seeing it. Seeing the castle that she was going to be living in for the next seven years of her life, she couldn't help but feel as though she was living in one of the fairy tale books her parents used to read to her, like a princess who was rescued from her tormentors and brought to the safety of a castle where no one would hurt her.

That was how she had felt at Hogwarts, with Dumbledore still alive and offering them an unspoken sense of protection against all dark forces. The castle had always seemed impregnable. Oh how her eyes were opened when Dumbledore died…

She shook that train of thought from her mind, willing herself to enjoy the evening and not ruin it with thoughts of the future.

Ogg led them to the boats by the shore, holding them firmly in place as the children clambered in, four to each boat.

"Allow me," Abraxas said as he offered her his hand to help her in.

As off putting as it was to have a Malfoy treating her with respect and courtesy, it was also kind of nice. No one had even offered to help her, or any of the other girls for that matter, get into the boats back in 1991. In fact, if she had fallen out of the boat and into the lake, she was pretty sure that most of the boys, Harry and Ron included, would have burst out laughing. Here, there wasn't a girl that went unaided. It was strange, but most certainly in a good way.

No sooner was she settled, then she was joined by another girl, followed by Tom and Abraxas.

With everyone securely in their boats, Ogg climbed into his own at the head of the group. "Forward!" he called out the magic word.

Just like that, the boats started moving on their own, ferrying them across the glassy lake and through a dark tunnel on the side of the cliff under the castle. It wasn't a long journey, spanning a whole fifteen minutes from the lake shore to the underground harbour.

Once again the boys proved to be gentlemen as they got out first to help the girls. This time, it was Tom who extended a hand to help her, beating Abraxas to it. The white-haired boy seemed a bit put out by that, but soon recovered as he went to help the other girl.

Who would have thought that she would have boys fighting over who got to help her out of a boat? It was almost too ridiculous to be funny.

Ogg led them out of the underground cavern and up into the school. The children began to chat happily among themselves as they made their way across the Entrance Hall and up a couple flights of stairs, discussing topics varying from Quidditch to the ride to Hogwarts.

Glancing over at the boys, she found that Abraxas was telling Tom all about how he planned to try out for the Quidditch team next year, hopefully earning the position of seeker. Rolling her eyes in annoyance, she chose to tune them out. One thing that never seemed to change, no matter what time she was in, was boys and their love of Quidditch.

Instead, she turned to the girl standing beside her, the same girl they had shared a boat with. "Hi, I'm Hermione."

"My name is Druella," The girl smiled back at her.

There was a hint of an accent in her voice, but it wasn't overly noticeable, as she spoke excellent english.

"Are you by any chance partially french?"

Druella nodded her head, her golden ringlets bouncing around her face as she did. "Yes, my family originally came from France, but we've lived in England for most of my life," she explained. "My mother and father were debating over whether they should send me to Beauxbatons or even home-school me themselves, but in the end they decided to send me here, and I'm ever so happy that they did.

"What about you?"

Hermione bit her lip nervously. This was the first time she was speaking about the backstory she had made for herself. She hoped that people would believe it. She wasn't known to be the best at lying, though she liked to think that she had improved with everything that had happened. After all, no one had questioned her story so far.

"I've always lived in London. My parents died rather recently in a tragic accident. They never told me about Magic or anything, though I suppose one of them must have been magical. My mother always got angry at me when I made strange things happen. I only found out the truth when Professor Dumbledore came to the orphanage. Everything made sense after that."

Druella gave her a look of genuine sympathy, "So, you're a half-blood then? I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

"Muggles are a danger to the wizarding world," Abraxas cut into the conversation. "My father has always said that our two worlds ought to be completely severed from one another."

While she did understand that view and where it came from, she didn't entirely agree with it. Not all muggles were bad, just like how not all wizards were good. She opened her mouth and was just about to tell them as much, when they came to a halt, gathering at the top of the landing.

"This is where I leave you," Ogg said as he turned and started back down the way he had come.

Standing in front of the tall double doors leading to the Great Hall was none other than Albus Dumbledore, dressed in a flashy red robe. The usual twinkle was once more in his eyes as he gazed upon all the eager children before him.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Dumbledore greeted them. "The start-of-term banquet will commence soon, but first you must all be sorted into one of our four different houses; Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin."

He launched into the usual speech about how your house was like your family and how your actions would both win and lose points for your house. Hermione wasn't exactly paying attention, as she had heard it all before, and instead took the opportunity to search the group of children around her to see if there was anyone she recognized.

There was a girl with bright red hair who reminded her of Ginny, and then there was a boy who looked somewhat similar to Neville. Aside from that, she didn't recognize too many students. A part of her hoped she wouldn't recognize too many people, as the reminder of her old friends made her sad, but at the same time she knew it couldn't be helped. She was bound to encounter the ancestors of all sorts of people she had known. It was just something she was going to have to get used to.

"Now, if you will all form a line, I shall lead you into the banquet."

With a calming deep breath, Hermione took her place in line with Druella in front of her and Tom and Abraxas behind her.

The Great Hall was just as impressive as it always was during the opening feasts with thousands of candles floating above their heads with the night sky in place of the ceiling.

"I thought for sure there was a ceiling there," Druella remarked.

"It's not real. It's just bewitched to look like the sky outside," she explained. "I read about it in _Hogwarts: A History_."

She suppressed the urge to giggle as she recalled how she had said the exact same thing the first time around. Perhaps it wouldn't be as hard to act as though she was eleven-years-old as she had initially thought. All she had to do was imitate her real eleven-year-old self. Though, maybe she would try to tone herself down a bit. She didn't want to scare everyone off this time.

Coming to the end of the Great Hall, they gathered in front of the long table in front of them that was reserved for the professors. She had to admit that it was weird to see Dumbledore conducting the sorting ceremony and not seated at the very center of the table. Of course, Dumbledore wasn't the headmaster yet. If she recalled correctly, the current headmaster was a much older wizard by the name of Armando Dippet, a former Ravenclaw.

Many of the teachers were different. The only one she knew, aside from Dumbledore, was Slughorn, who sat at the very end of the table with a goblet of wine, chatting away with a professor who currently had his back turned to her.

A stool was placed in front of them and on top of it was the heavily-patched sorting hat. All the other first years starred in shock and confusion as the hat began to sing to them.

_'Oh, you might not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me.'_

Tom glanced over at her with a look reminiscent of when they had been told to run straight into a wall.

She merely shrugged back at him.

The Hall roared with applause, mixed in with a bit of laughter from a couple of boys who thought it hilarious. The hat smiled widely as it bowed to each of the four tables before turning stiff again.

Plucking the hat from the stool, Dumbledore pulled out a long roll of parchment and began to read out the names.

"Avery, Malcolm!"

A pimply-faced boy with short sandy hair stepped forward and put on the hat.

"SLYTHERIN!" the hat shouted after a couple of minutes.

One by one students went up to try on the hat. Hermione was surprised by how many names she actually knew or had at least heard of. Shortly after Avery came a Cygnus Black. At first she thought he might be Sirius' father, but then she remembered that Walburga was currently in seventh year. No, that couldn't be it. Still, there weren't that many members of the Black Family. This boy had to be related somehow.

"SLYTHERIN!"

A couple of Hufflepuffs came after, followed by an Augusta Fairweather who went into Gryffindor.

It was at that point when panic started to set in. What if the sorting hat decided to put her back in Gryffindor again? Her whole mission would be ruined. Sure, Tom might try to go out of his way to talk to her at first, but it wouldn't take long for the house rivalries to set in, making them enemies in no time at all. Everything she had gone through would be for nothing!

"Granger, Hermione!" Dumbledore called her name.

With a gulp, she stepped up to the stool and sat down. Dumbledore must have noticed that she was nervous because he gave her a small yet reassuring smile as he set the hat down on her head. The Great Hall faded from view as her eyes were covered by the scratchy dark material of the sorting hat.

 _"Hmm, how interesting,"_ a voice said in her ears. _"A time traveller? I haven't encountered one of those in a very long time. And a former Gryffindor as well? I should have known. It takes a great deal of courage to take on such a task as yours… But it seems you don't want to be a Gryffindor anymore. Very difficult… Where to put you?"_

She had been struggling to figure that out herself. Hufflepuff was out of the question. Not that it was a bad house, she just didn't think it would suit her. Originally, the sorting had had debated over putting her in Ravenclaw. That was certainly one of her better options. Slytherins and Ravenclaws didn't hate each other or anything, at least not as far as she knew.

_"Yes, you certainly have the brains for Ravenclaw, but you have a cunning streak in you as well. I can see it in your head… Already you are attached to the boy, and will do anything to keep him from falling into darkness… Lying… Manipulating… Tsk, tsk, Miss Granger. What would your old friends think if they could see you now?"_

A lump formed in her throat. As much as she'd like to think that they would understand, she knew that, had Harry and Ron been able to see her… Well, they probably wouldn't like what they saw. There was no use lying to the sorting hat. The life she had created for herself was based on lies that she used to her own advantage to secure her place in this world and at Tom's side.

As for Tom… The sorting hat was right about him as well. He had become something of a friend to her, and there wasn't much that she wouldn't do for her friends.

_"I think it's safe to say that you belong in…"_

"SLYTHERIN!"

Cheers erupted across the Hall as the sorting hat was plucked from her head. Her eyes were immediately met with the sight of her new friends smiling back at her, clearly happy with where the hat had put her.

Hopping down from the stool, she made her way over to the Slytherin Table who were, much to her surprise, waiting eagerly to welcome her. Perhaps it was just because she had never been in Slytherin before, but she hadn't expected them to be so… friendly towards her.

She sat and watched as the rest of the sorting ceremony unfolded. A couple of students after her were sorted into Ravenclaw and another into Gryffindor. The red-haired girl she had seen earlier turned out to be Berenice Prewett, who went into Gryffindor along with Cecil Longbottom and Louisa Briggs.

As expected, Abraxas was sorted into Slytherin after a Romulus Lestrange. The very name gave her goosebumps. She had to remind herself that he was only related to Bellatrix through marriage. The terrifying witch wasn't even born yet, and with any luck she would never have the displeasure of seeing her again.

Then came the moment she was waiting for.

"Riddle, Tom!"

Tom strode forward, eyeing the tattered hat with distrust before sitting down. The sorting hat had barely touched his head when it yelled out "SLYTHERIN!"

Hearing that, he practically sprinted over and sat down next to her, a smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned over to whisper in her ear. "I'm glad we're in the same house."

"Me too," she smiled back at him.

Of course, she had known all along that he would be sorted into Slytherin, but she was still happy nonetheless.

The sorting ceremony was finished not long after and Druella joined them in Slytherin, much to her delight. Druella seemed like a nice girl, and she figured it might be good to have a friend who was a girl for a change. Someone to talk to about girly things and complain to whenever Malfoy was being a prat.

With the sorting ceremony out of the way, the feast could finally begin. She hadn't realized just how hungry she was until the food appeared before her eyes. There were piles of boiled potatoes and platters full of all sorts of meat and cheese. After having been forced to get by on orphanage food for the last several months, she was overjoyed to have Hogwarts food.

Tom must have felt the same way, as his mouth was practically watering as he piled his plate with some of everything.

It seemed that all manners were tossed aside when it came to boys and food, as evidenced throughout the entire Hall. She even caught Malfoy stuffing his face. It was amusing to see the typically graceful and aristocratic boy acting in a less than dignified manner.

Her and Druella shared a glance, rolling their eyes at their behaviour.

Once everyone had had their fill and were too full to eat any more, the food vanished from sight just as quickly as it had appeared and the students were dismissed to head to bed.

The first years were instructed to follow the fifth year Slytherin Prefect, Magnus Tolle, down to the dungeons. Hermione made sure to pay close attention to where they were going so that she could find her way to and from her new common room without trouble. This was completely new territory to her, as she had never been to the Slytherin Dungeons before. The last thing she wanted to do was get lost.

Eventually they came to stop in front of a bare stone wall. There was nothing to indicate that there was a secret entrance around, which she supposed would make sense for Slytherin's, but still made it difficult to try and remember which wall was the right one.

"Potentiae Magnitudine."

With those words, the wall opened up to reveal a dark passageway. In a single file, they followed after the Prefect through the passage and into a large green tinted room.

For all intents and purposes, it looked no different from your average common room with couches and chairs scattered, save for the fact that the windows looked directly out into the Black Lake. She wasn't sure if it was just a trick of the light, but she thought she saw a tentacle swim past. The idea of having the Giant Squid spying in on them wasn't the most pleasant thing in the world, nor was the thought that their entire dormitory could be flooded if ever one of the windows broke.

She quickly shook those thoughts from her head. The windows were probably reinforced with magic to make sure that would never happen.

Magnus then went on to explain that the boys dormitories were through the passage to the right while the girls were through the passage to the left. While everyone else headed straight towards their respective quarters, Tom stayed behind, motioning to Hermione for her to stay as well.

He waited until everyone was gone before speaking. "Why did you lie to Abraxas and Druella? You said so yourself that your parents were both muggles."

So, he had noticed that after all. She had wondered if he might.

"Do you remember what it said in that book we read about the founders of Hogwarts?" she answered in a hushed tone.

He seemed to ponder on it for a second before he caught on to what she was referring to. "Salazar Slytherin thought that those of muggle parentage ought not to be taught magic," he quoted.

"Can you imagine what the other Slytherin's might do to me if they knew I was a muggleborn? I hate the thought of lying to them, but what else can I do? I just want them to treat me decently, not as though I'm dirt beneath their feet."

If anyone could understand that feeling, it was Tom. He had spent his entire life treated the exact same way by Mrs. Cole.

"Don't worry, it'll be our secret," Tom promised. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

There was something ominous about the way he said that, but she tried not to think too much and just appreciate the fact that he was willing to keep it a secret. It was a sign that all was not lost. He knew that she was a muggleborn and didn't hate her because of it. There was hope for him, and that made her smile.

"Thank you, Tom. I really appreciate that."

Then she did something that she never thought she would do. Reaching out, she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a hug. Yes, that's right… She hugged Tom Riddle...

His body stiffened in her arms as though he had suddenly been petrified. That thought made her laugh. As if he would be petrified by his own basilisk. However, the more she thought about it, the realization dawned on her that he had probably never been hugged before. His mother had died within an hour of giving birth to him and it was highly unlikely that Mrs. Cole would have ever hugged him.

With that in mind, she hugged him tighter, as if to make up for all the hugs he had deprived of.

After a few moments, Tom seemed to regain control of his body and his arms slowly wound themselves around her to return the hug. It was a rather awkward hug to be honest, but it was still a hug and she was determined to make sure that he got used to them.

Unfortunately, the hug was short-lived as a sudden cough coming from behind them, alerted them of the fact that Magnus had come back to collect them.

"You do realize that you'll see each other in the morning, right?" he asked. "It's not like you're being sent away to two different parts of the world."

Stepping away from each other, they each had a tint of redness to their cheeks. She made a mental note to hug him somewhere more private next time.

Wanting to escape from the intense glare of the Slytherin Prefect, she muttered a quick goodnight to Tom and scampered off towards the girls dormitory.


	8. First Classes

Hermione hadn’t had many opportunities to look in the mirror since her arrival. As a rule, she tended to avoid them, not because she thought herself hideous, but because she knew she looked different. And that she did. As she glanced at herself in the full-length mirror that stood in the corner of the girls dorm room, she couldn’t help but feel as though she was looking at a complete stranger.

Gone was the eleven-year-old buck tooth girl with unbearably frizzy hair, proudly donning her red and gold. While her hair was still frizzy, it was pulled back out of her face and tamed visibly by a fancy french hair potion that Druella had shared with her. The only thing that had remained constant was the splatter of faint freckles on her nose. It was nothing compared to the freckles of the Weasley's, but they were still there.

And then there was the most obvious change of all. It was as if all shades of red had vanished from her life. Everything around her was green, from the bed sheets to the tie wrapped around her neck. Her new uniform consisted of a white starch blouse tucked underneath a scratchy grey dress that fell just past her knees and cinched at the waist. Stitched onto the right side of the dress was the familiar crest of Slytherin, branding her for the rest of her Hogwarts years.

She wasn’t sure what to think of it all. In a way, she couldn’t help but find herself rather pretty, but at the same time, she realized that she looked just as prim and proper as any other Pureblood Slytherin girl.

The dream she had had last night still haunted her. She hadn’t been able to sleep well, as everything from the day before kept playing through her mind. The words of the sorting hat were at the forefront of it all.

_“What would your old friends think if they could see you now?”_ the hat’s voice echoed.

And that was exactly what kept her awake.

In her dream, she found herself back in her own time, only she looked different, different even to how she looked now. She had returned to her natural age of seventeen, but she was dressed all in black, as if dressed for a funeral. Her hair was perfectly styled and her face without blemish. She looked like herself yet she didn't at the same time.

Then, Harry and Ron appeared to her. Overjoyed to see them again, she had run at them and started to hug them, but they pushed her away, towering over her without even offering to help as she fell to the floor.

_“It’s me, Hermione Granger,”_ she said. _“Don’t you remember me?”_

They shook their heads, glaring at her with a look of pure hate.

_“The Hermione Granger that we knew and trusted would have never become what you have,”_ Ron sneered.

_“You’ve replaced us,”_ Harry retorted. _“With Malfoy and Riddle, no less.”_

_“You betrayed us!”_

_“You’ve become just like them!”_

_“We hate you!”_

_“You’re evil!”_

Needless to say, she had woken with a startle that morning, drenched in a cold sweat. Deep down, she knew that it was just a bad dream and nothing more. She knew it wasn’t real… Or at least, she tried to convince herself of that… Surely Harry and Ron wouldn’t hate her for the things she had been forced to do to keep up appearances. The whole reason she had taken this mission on in the first place was to save them, along with many others, from the dark inevitable fate which would have surely awaited them otherwise.

She was doing this for them... 

They would understand that sacrifices must be made... 

And besides, just because she was now a Slytherin did not mean that she was evil. Slughorn was also a Slytherin and he was one of the nicest professor’s she had ever met. A bit prone to favoritism perhaps, but everyone had their faults.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself down, forcing herself to turn away from the mirror and back to face the rest of the room. 

There weren’t many other girls in her house and year, only herself, Druella Rosier, and two more girls named Rosaline Selwyn and Laverna Flint. She got on fairly well with them for the most part. Laverna was a bit… er, intense… and looked a bit more like a troll than a girl, but still she tried to be nice to her.

“Do you want to head down to breakfast together?” Hermione asked the other girls.

Both Druella and Rosaline nodded their heads eagerly, jumping up to join her.

Laverna shook her head. “I’m waiting on my brother to bring me my luggage,” she grunted. “The house elves switched our trunks. He’s got my dresses and I’m stuck with his smelly old underpants!”

The two proper pureblood girls looked utterly mortified at the very mention of the word ‘underpants’.

Hermione had to bite down on her lip to stop herself from laughing. “Well, if we see him, we’ll let him know that you’re looking for him.”

The troll-like girl nodded her head in what she assumed to be appreciation and trudged off into the bathroom.

Meeting up in the common room with Tom and Abraxas, along with their new friend, Cygnus Black, they all headed over to the Great Hall for breakfast before heading to their first day of classes.

In order to make the whole ordeal less boring for her, she convinced herself that it would serve as an excellent refresher for her, to ensure that she got as many Outstandings on her N.E.W.T.’s as possible. Truth be told, she wasn’t too sure what she was going to do after school, or even if she would get the chance to pursue a career, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her from getting top marks.

Her first class of the day was Charms, which was taught by Professor Ayspe, a younger professor with long elf ears who was constantly tripping over his own robe, followed by History of Magic, taught by none other than Professor Binns. She honestly hadn’t expected to see him, or at least not still as a ghost anyway. Clearly he was a lot older than she initially thought.

The first day of classes was always a bit boring, as the teachers attempted to familiarize themselves with their new students and explain the basics of each subject and what they could expect to learn. It wasn’t anything that Hermione didn’t already know, but she was intrigued at the idea of seeing the different methods of teaching used by each professor and comparing them to the professors she had originally had.

Then they had potions with Professor Slughorn, much to her delight. While she tried to tone down her know-it-all self in other classes, she couldn’t help but let it out in this particular class. She tried to make a good impression on him and answered every question he asked her with an amount of confidence and fine detail that surprised everyone in the room, even Tom.

Seeing him again, she couldn’t help but remember how he had encouraged her before she left. _“It might not be easy, but if anyone can save him, I reckon it’s you,”_ his words echoed through her brain, giving her renewed determination.

And finally came the class she had probably been looking forward to most: Defence Against the Dark Arts. This was the one and only class that she had received an Exceeds Expectations on during her O.W.L.’s. Harry had always excelled in this class, but she struggled with it a bit and she was determined to change that this time around. Besides, she figured that it might come in handy to master dealing with the dark arts when considering her mission.

When she first entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom and took her seat, Druella and Tom sitting on either side and Abraxas behind her, she hadn’t known quite what to expect. Seeing as the position was no longer cursed, or rather she assumed it wasn’t, she was curious to see who the professor was and how long he had been teaching.

She was soon to find out as no sooner had every last one of the students taken their seats, then the door slammed open. The shutters on the window blew closed on their own as a sudden coldness washed over the room, making everyone shiver. For a split second she was convinced that Snape had somehow followed her back in time, but then she saw him… 

A dark haired man with startlingly pale skin, dressed in robes of crimson swept elegantly into the room, a cold boney hand briefly brushing against her arm as he passed and made his way to the front of the classroom.

“Welcome to Defence Against the Dark Arts,” he greeted them as he stepped up to the chalkboard to write his name down. “I am Professor Kieran Renshaw, and in this class I will be teaching you to defend yourselves against the darkness that lurks at every corner, eagerly waiting to devour you all.”

Hermione and Tom glanced at each other with wide-eyed recognition. They both knew who this man was… It was the same man whom they had encountered in Knockturn Alley… The same strange man who had somehow taken control of their bodies to compel them to leave...

Hermione gulped, hoping that, by some slim chance, he wouldn’t remember them.

“At the beginning of each year, I like to quiz my students to test their knowledge of the dark arts,” Professor Renshaw continued, holding up a stack of papers. “You shall have thirty minutes to complete the quiz to the best of your abilities, and don’t worry if you don’t get them all right, as I will not be grading you on it.”

She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he went around passing out papers. Who exactly was he? _What_ was he? Even now, he had this… aura about him that didn’t seem quite natural. Clearly he was a wizard, otherwise he wouldn’t be teaching them, but he was definitely something else as well. She had a few ideas, but nothing she could claim with absolute certainty.

When Professor Renshaw finally reached her and Tom, he showed no visible signs of recognition as he handed them each of them a quiz paper. He had just turned around to continue on his way when they heard him mutter.

“Let’s see just how well the two of you know the dark arts.”

He remembered them... 

Once he was finished handing out the papers, he conjured a clock out of thin air and set the timer for half-an-hour before sitting down at his desk.

The questions were pretty straight-forward and simple enough, ranging from all manner of dark creatures as well as what to do when met by said dark creatures. For example, when faced with a zombie, a simple yet efficient Petrificus Totalus would work well enough, allowing oneself to escape safely without going to the extremes of slaying the rotten smelling creature.

She breezed through the quiz in only ten minutes time and, confident that she had answered each one correctly, she strode up to the professor’s desk to hand it in. Tom followed suit but a few seconds after.

Looking up from the piece of parchment he had been staring at, Professor Renshaw reluctantly reached out and took the papers from them, his eyes quickly skimming through each. After a moment, the tiniest hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

“Impressive… I’m sorry, what were your names?”

“Tom Riddle, sir.”

“Hermione Granger.”

“I look forward to seeing how you fare in a more... practical exercise,” he said. “Take ten points for Slytherin. Now, go back to your desks and wait quietly until everyone else is finished.”

Nodding their heads, they did as they were told.

Hermione couldn’t help but feel pleased with herself. Even if every other class was boring and repetitive, she was assured that Defence Against the Dark Arts would be quite the opposite.


	9. Pranks and Snake Bites

Being in Slytherin proved to be not as terrible as Hermione had initially thought. News spread fast of her so-called blood status, and she could honestly say that it made all the difference in the world. When she was first sorted into the house, she had expected to be under constant scrutiny by the other members of her house, especially the older members, but they didn't even so much as cast a glare at her.

Even Walburga Black, who she had expected to be the worst of all, was remarkably tolerant of her.

If anyone was a problem, it was the Gryffindors, who had seemed to make it their goal to make any and all Slytherins miserable. She knew that Gryffindors were notorious for pulling pranks, but she never saw any reason to be alarmed by it… that is, until she was put in Slytherin…

They managed to pull three consecutive pranks on them within two days time. On Monday Morning, they had woken up and stumbled down to breakfast to find that someone had put slugs in their pumpkin juice. Rosaline ended up accidentally swallowing one and had to be rushed to the hospital wing.

Then came the dung bomb incident. One of the Gryffindor Prefects managed to get a hold of the password to their common room and set off a dung bomb inside. They were forced to vacate their dormitory until it could be fumigated and ended up camping out in the Great Hall.

And then, once they finally managed to actually fall asleep, lying on tables and benches, the Gryffindors sent every ghost in the castle to come and keep them company. Hermione woke up with a right fright to find Peeves floating two inches over her, who then proceeded to reach out and pretend to grab her nose.

After that, Headmaster Dippet and the other professors finally saw fit to step in and put an end to the pranking, warning them that if they attempted to pull even one more prank, they would be serving a week's long detention scrubbing the castle floors. That certainly stopped all the pranking, but it also increased the ever growing tension between the two houses.

"So, are you excited to be starting flying lessons tomorrow?" Rosaline asked as they left the potions lab.

"It's one of the classes I've been looking forward to most," Abraxas said, puffing out his chest. "Of course, I already know how to fly rather well, so I suspect it will be rather easy."

"Same here," Cygnus agreed. "My father said that it would be a disgrace to the family name if I didn't know how to fly before I started at Hogwarts."

"What about you, Tom?"

Tom shrugged. "I suppose flying is a useful skill to have."

Abraxas then turned to Hermione. "If you're nervous, I can give you a few pointers to ensure you remain upright on your broom," he offered.

After having gone through the whole Gryffindor Prank Attack, she had acquired a newfound appreciation and understanding of Slytherins. They might be a bit stuck up at times but they were generally pretty nice people. Abraxas was another one of those who wasn't as bad as she had initially thought. He was charming and polite to her, and she found it gradually easier and easier to be genuinely nice back.

"Really? That would be great. I'm afraid I'm not too keen on flying. I've always been a bit afraid of heights," Hermione said.

He smiled at her. "Sure, we can practice with a regular old broom later in the common room."

Druella and Rosaline giggled between themselves, wiggling their eyebrows at her suggestively.

Hermione just rolled her eyes at them. Even at the age of eleven, those two were what she would consider to be mildly boy crazy. They were always going on about which boy was the cutest and which ones would make suitable future husbands. She thought it was a rather foolish business. They were far too young to be thinking of such things, and she for one wanted to enjoy her second chance at the halfway normal childhood that had been stolen from her the first time around.

Moving on from that topic, they continued on their way to their next class, which just so happened to be Transfiguration.

While it had once been one of her all time favorite classes, it was now one of her least favorite. Dumbledore was an excellent professor, there was no doubt about it. His students learned a lot from him. However, she often caught him staring at her during classes. It was almost as if he was watching her, waiting for… something… She wasn't sure what it was, but it left her feeling oddly disturbed.

And now that she thought of it, she realized that he had been watching her ever since she arrived at Hogwarts. His gaze was never far away from her, and when he wasn't looking at her, he was looking at Tom, almost studying him to an extent. She had brought up her observation to Tom, who had never trusted the man to begin with, and he agreed that it was definitely suspicious. Neither of them liked it.

"Do you remember what we're supposed to be transfiguring today?" Druella asked.

Hermione nodded, "Professor Dumbledore said we would be attempting to transfigure a piece of grass into a sewing needle."

Tom rolled his eyes as he mumbled quietly, "And then we can use them to stab his eyes out."

She pretended not to have heard that. As pleasant as Tom could be most of the time, he was prone to dark moods every now and then. He liked to plot revenge on those he didn't like, even if he never went through with it. Every now and then, she had to remind him that doing such things would get him expelled. That straightened him out almost every time.

"Well, I personally think that-"

Hermione started to speak, but was cut off as she felt her foot collide into something and give way from underneath her. The next thing she knew, she had collided face first into the floor.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Rosaline asked, as her and Druella each offered a hand to help her up.

"You did that on purpose!" Abraxas exclaimed.

Turning around, she spotted a group of Gryffindors standing nearby, laughing their heads off. It didn't take long for her to realize that they had tripped her. She felt her face turn hot as she smoothed down the skirt of her dress. Would this stupid house rivalry ever end? She had thought it was bad in her own time, but that was nothing compared to how it was now.

"What's wrong? A bunch of Slytherins can't take a hit? I would have thought that you knew how to land more gracefully than that!" a messy haired boy sneered.

Abraxas and Cygnus charged up to the boy, grabbing him by the collar and holding him at wand point.

"I dare you to say that again!" Cygnus snarled.

As much as she hated it when students fought in the corridors, the fact that they were doing it in her defence softened her heart. They cared enough about her to want to stick up for her, and she couldn't help but appreciate the thought behind the gesture.

She was about to step forward to try and break it up when the messy haired boy suddenly screamed. Taken by confusion, Abraxas and Cygnus released the boy, and jumped back.

Her eyes widened when she saw it. Coiled around the boy's leg was a snake, it's fangs piercing through his pant leg. She knew in an instant what was going on. Her theory was only proved further, when she saw the iciness in Tom's eyes.

"Tom, please stop this!" she pleaded with him. "Call him off, I beg of you!"

His gaze briefly flickered back and forth between her and the snake, as if debating over what to do, before his gaze finally settled on her. Their eyes met and just like that, the iciness melted away.

By now, everyone had caught on to what was happening and stood frozen with both fear and shock, staring at them with wide eyes.

_"Sssshe ssseur ssssssssssssssaai essss ssshisss,"_ turning back towards the boy, he stretched out his hand and beckoned his pet to him.

The snake obediently uncoiled himself from the boy's leg and slithered back to his master. When he was within grasp, Tom gently took the snake in his hands and slid him back into his book bag.

"Y-You're a… Parselmouth!?" one of the Gryffindor boys shouted.

Frightened out of their wits, the boys ran off, coming back to help the messy haired boy who was crying out in pain. Two of the boys had to carry them between themselves because he couldn't walk on his own.

No one dared to speak for a while after that, as no one seemed to know quite what to say.

In Hermione's case, she was too busy worrying about the repercussions. Those Gryffindor boys were surely heading to the hospital wing to have the one's leg looked at. Being a common garter snake, she was pretty sure that it wouldn't kill the boy. The nurse would be able to heal him easily enough, but there would be questions asked as to how a snake had gotten into the school.

Things could go very wrong. If word got out that Tom was a parselmouth and that he had set a snake on the boy, he was sure to be expelled. Who knows, perhaps she would get expelled as well by affiliation. Their wands would be snapped and they would be sent back to the orphanage to live a miserable non-magical life…

As easy as it would be to just let Tom be expelled and get him away from magic, she knew that would only make him bitter, pushing him down a different dark path. No, they both needed to stay at school where they had some semblance of a happy life. Being sent back to that orphanage permanently would only reverse everything she had worked so hard to achieve.

"I'm a what?" Tom broke the silence, furrowing a brow in confusion.

"A parselmouth. That's the name for witches and wizards who can speak to snakes," Abraxas explained. "It's an extremely rare talent that only a small handful of wizards have been known to possess."

Tom's eyes lit up at that. If there was one thing she knew he liked, it was being told that he was special. And that he certainly was. He had an ability that no one else in this school, and possibly even the whole wizarding world, had. As far as she knew, he was one of the last of Salazar Slytherin's descendants. Not that he knew that, and if she had her way, he wouldn't find out for quite some time.

"Come on, we'd better get to class before we're late."

They all nodded their heads in agreement and continued on their way.

Hermione did her best to avoid Dumbledore's gaze during class, fearing that he might read her mind and see what had happened if she did. The others seemed to have the same idea as her, as they were all rather quiet and withdrawn. None of them raised their hands to answer questions.

They listened to what the professor was saying and performed the spell as best they could. Hermione and Tom were the first to complete the transfiguration, both of them getting it on the first try. They sat silently for the rest of the class, secretly writing notes to each other on a piece of two pieces of parchment that they had enchanted so that what one person wrote would appear on the other.

_"Are you mad at me?"_ Tom wrote.

Hermione let out a quiet sigh, shaking her head at him.

_"What you did wasn't right, but I'm not mad at you,"_ she wrote back. _"I'm just worried about what's going to happen to you when the professors find out what you did."_

_"Surely they won't expel me. It's not like I killed him or anything. I was just getting back at them for all the horrible things they've been doing to us… to you…"_

That was exactly why she wasn't mad at him. She knew he had done it out of defence. And he was right. It really wasn't any worse than the pranks that the Gryffindors had been pulling on them.

Just then, an idea came to mind; an idea that just might be able to prevent news from spreading about Tom being a parselmouth.

The bell rang soon enough, announcing the end of classes for the day.

Gathering up her books and parchment, she slipped them neatly back into her bag before heading out of class. Once out in the halls, she lingered behind while the other Slytherins started off back towards the dungeons.

"Aren't you coming?" Rosaline asked.

Hermione shook her head. "I'll meet up with you a little while. I have something that I need to take care of first."

Then, without further explanation, she took off in the opposite direction, breaking out into a sprint as soon as she had disappeared around the corner.

She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, keeping her eyes peeled for professors or prefects, as she made her way across the quad and up several flights of stairs. When she came to the fourth floor, she slowed down to a more normal pace, taking a moment to steady her breathing and calm her heart rate.

Oh, she hoped that she wasn't too late.

Pulling open the door at the end of the narrow corridor, she slipped inside to find the school nurse, Madam Vervain, seated at her desk and looking through paperwork. After a moment, she looked up and noticed her.

"Oh, hello there, my dear," the kind grey haired old woman greeted her with a toothy smile. "What can I do for you? Not feeling ill, are you?"

Hermione took a deep breath before forcing a smile upon her own face. "I'm fine. I heard what happened and came to see if the boy with the bite on his leg was alright."

"Don't worry, he'll make a full recovery," the matron assured her. "I gave him a potion to help with the pain, along with a Sleeping Draught, so I'm afraid he's not awake at the moment, but the rest of his friends are currently in there with him if you want to join them."

She nodded her head and started around the desk to pass her.

"You wouldn't happen to know how it happened, would you? The boys that carried him in were rather tight lipped about it." the matron asked.

She just shook her head.

Madam Vervain couldn't have been any more different from Madam Pomfrey if she tried. She was a kind old Hufflepuff who naively believed that everyone had only the purest of intentions. While Madam Pomfrey was quite strict about the number of guests admitted to visit at a time as well as for how long, Madam Vervain didn't seem to care at all. In her mind, the more guests the merrier.

As much as she hated the idea of using the woman's naivety to her advantage, she knew that she wasn't by far the only one who had done so. The fact that there were fifteen Gryffindor's huddled around their friend's bed was proof of that. Madam Pomfrey would have thrown a fit if she had still been in charge of the place.

Sneaking into the room as quietly as she could so as not to alert the Gryffindors, she cast a silent disillusionment charm before creeping closer to hear what they were saying.

"You saw what that kid did to poor Fleamont," said one of the boys. "Only those of Salazar Slytherin's descent have been known to speak to snakes."

"What was his name again?" asked another.

"Tom... something… I don't remember his last name…"

"It doesn't matter I suppose."

"I don't know about you, but I'm not going anywhere near those snake lovers again. I'd quite like to keep my life, thank you very much."

"They didn't kill him."

"Still, we can't just sit back and let a kid like that roam freely about the school. For all we know, he could set a cobra on us next time."

"We should tell Headmaster Dippet what happened and get that menace out of here."

Hermione gritted her teeth as she slowly lifted her wand, pointing it at the whole group. The Gryffindor side of her that still remained was screaming at her to put the wand down and go, but the Slytherin side of her told her that she needed to do this.

_Please, do whatever it takes to stop Tom Riddle from becoming Lord Voldemort._

That was what Dumbledore had instructed her to do, and she knew that she wouldn't be able to save him if these boys had their way. She had to stop them… whatever it took...

"Obliviate," she muttered the Memory Charm incantation.

A wave of forgetfulness washed over the group as they looked around, trying to figure out how they had gotten there.

The memory charm alone wasn't going to work, so she cast another charm. The False Memory Charm was a complex bit of magic that allowed a person to plant false memories into the brain. Ironically enough, her inspiration for learning it came from her former Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart himself. It would seem that he had taught her something useful after all.

She had only used it a couple of times before, and never on a whole group of people at once, so she wasn't entirely sure how well it would work. After a few moments of being stuck in a daze like state, they snapped out of it and went on talking as if nothing had happened.

"How did he get this bite again?" one of the boys asked.

"Don't you remember? The Slytherins got back at us for pulling all those pranks on them.

"I don't know about you, but I say we leave them alone from now on. Their revenge is brutal, mate!"

They all agreed with that, just as she had wanted them to. No one mentioned Tom or the fact that he was a parselmouth.

Hermione let out a breath of relief as she turned to leave, removing the disillusionment charm once she was back in Madam Vervain's office. The charms had worked and they were safe from the threat of expulsion. Maybe now they could actually enjoy their time at Hogwarts.

A smile had just started to tug at her lips when she left the medical wing, waving goodbye to the elderly matron. It disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared as she found herself standing face to face with the auburn-haired Albus Dumbledore, looking at her much the same way he had that day he came to Wool's Orphanage to tell them about magic.

"Miss Granger, I wonder if I might have a word with you."


	10. Interrogation

"Miss Granger, I wonder if I might have a word with you."

Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw him there. How on earth? She had just seen him in Transfiguration no more than twenty minutes ago. Had he followed her or something? More importantly, did he know about what had happened? She wasn't sure how he had found her, but it left her feeling highly unsettled.

Fearing that he might notice her panic, she forced herself to calm down, placing a hand to her chest to still the frantic beating of her heart.

"Forgive me if I frightened you," he apologized.

"Don't worry, I'm just a bit naturally jumpy," She waved it off. "Of course, lead the way Professor."

Retracing their steps, he led her back down the stairs and across the quad.

As she followed after the surprisingly fast-footed Dumbledore, she couldn't help but wonder why he wanted to speak with her. She had always been nervous about meeting with teachers to begin with, fearing that they would tell her some bad news about her grades, but oddly enough, that wasn't at the forefront of her concerns anymore.

The only reason that came to mind was that he had somehow found out about the snake encounter. It was entirely possible that one of the Gryffindor boys had run off to tell Dumbledore, perhaps while she was obliviating the others. At the time, she had been quite sure that all the same boys were present in the hospital wing, but she supposed there was a chance that she had overlooked one.

It was crazy to think that one annoying eleven-year-old boy was all it took to ruin everything. She hoped and prayed that the situation wasn't beyond repair…

They arrived back at the transfiguration classroom, which now sat vacant. Closing the door behind them, Dumbledore headed behind his desk and up the stairs to his personal chambers, motioning for her to follow.

She had only been in the Transfiguration Professor's Chambers once before, when Professor McGonagall had been it's resident. As expected, the room had changed quite drastically in appearance. The most obvious difference was that it lacked any and all feminine touches. Much like his future office, the walls were lined with all sorts of strange trinkets and a few awards, though not nearly as many as she remembered.

Her eyes were soon drawn towards the familiar phoenix that was perched on his stand next to Dumbledore's desk as always. Without even knowing what she was doing, she started to approach the bird, holding her hand out to him. Fawkes eyed her intently for a couple of moments before nuzzling his beak into the palm of her hand. She couldn't help but smile with delight as she began to stroke a hand soothingly down his head and across his back.

"Curious creatures, phoenixes are," Dumbledore remarked, "And even more curious is it that he would take such a liking to you."

Confused by his words, she turned back to face him.

"The phoenix is a pure-hearted creature. It does not allow just anyone to come near to it," Dumbledore explained. "Only those of noble heart and spirit can gain the affection of one."

Hearing that made her feel slightly lighter, as if a weight had been lifted from her chest. It was good to know that Fawkes trusted her.

Taking a seat behind his personal desk, he conjured up a chair for her to sit on the opposite side, which she took after a moment.

"Lemon drop?" he offered, holding up a bowl of candies.

She shook her head, "No thanks." She had never been overly keen on candy. It probably had something to do with the fact that her parents were dentists.

Popping a couple of lemon candies into his mouth, he set the bowl down and crossed his hands on the desk in front of him, assuming a more serious expression. He didn't speak for the first while, as he continued to stare at her like he often did. It was rather disconcerting to be honest. She could not read him as she could others, so there was no way of knowing what he was thinking.

"Miss Granger, do you know how we keep track of all the magical children in Britain?" he asked.

She shook her head, "I'm afraid not, sir."

It was true. She didn't know how they did it. To be honest, she had never really paid all that much attention to it. She assumed that there was some sort of magical process involved, but that was all.

"We have an enchanted list that adds names whenever a child starts showing signs of magic," he replied. "It was rather peculiar when your name showed up only weeks before my visit. At first, I thought that you were simply a late bloomer, as there have been a few such cases, but upon further investigation, that theory has proved unlikely."

She gulped, not liking where the conversation was heading.

"I am sure you have noticed my doing this, but I have been watching you and your friend, Mr. Riddle, ever since your arrival. You both seem to be remarkably intelligent and powerful for your age. I was simply wondering if you might be able to explain it all to me."

Of course he would have picked up on that. She should have known better than to think he wouldn't. Dumbledore was considered one of the greatest wizards in the world. While he may be a bit mad at times, there was no doubt that he had a brilliant mind.

She honestly didn't know what to tell him. The truth, or rather the full truth, was out of the question. No one could know how she had come to be in this time, not even Dumbledore. She supposed that even she would have to forget eventually, though she didn't like the idea of forgetting everyone and everything she had left. She hoped that she would, at the very least, never forget Harry and Ron.

"I'm afraid that I don't understand myself, professor. I've been performing accidental bits of magic for as long as I can remember. However... my parents had just died around the time you said my name appeared. Perhaps that has something to do with it?"

He nodded his head in understanding, though he didn't seem entirely convinced.

Hermione then went on to explain how they got bored over the summer and ended up reading through all of their school books beforehand. She even mentioned how they had tried a few spells on their own, quickly reassuring him that they had done it privately and that no one else had seen them.

"And what about Mr. Riddle? What do you know of his background?"

She shrugged. "Well, he's an orphan like me. His mother apparently died giving birth to him, and no one knows anything about his father, but I suppose he must be dead as well."

Dumbledore stroked a hand through his long beard. "What makes you think that?"

She had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes. He wasn't doing a very good job of hiding the fact that he knew all about Tom and his family. Of course, she knew all about them as well, though she dared not let on that she did. How would she possibly explain her knowledge?

"I know that there's a chance he might still be alive, but I like to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. He's clearly not in Tom's life for a reason, and I would like to think that it's because he is unable to be."

He didn't respond to that at first, but nor did he stare at her. Instead, he seemed to be staring off into blank space. She got the impression that, though he was physically sitting before her eyes, his mind was many miles away from her.

"Has he ever expressed any desire to learn more about his family?"

She thought back on all the time she had spent with him so far. There had been a few times when he seemed to wish he knew a bit more about his parents. His father in particular, seeing as he had kept his old mouth organ with him.

Of course he was curious. It was only natural for a child to be curious about a family he knew almost nothing about, but he wasn't to the point that he was actively seeking information about them yet.

"No, not as far as I know," she told him. "I don't think he really cares all that much."

This seemed to satisfy him, as he nodded his head and got up from his seat to usher her out, "Well, I'll let you get back to your friends now. I believe I've taken up enough of your time."

She stopped to give Fawkes one last pet on the head before leaving his office and heading out of the classroom all together. It was only after the classroom door had closed behind her and she was back in the corridor that she allowed herself to relax.

Her encounter with Dumbledore had left her feeling mentally exhausted. So much so that her brain hurt just thinking about it. She could only hope that Dumbledore would be satisfied with what she had told him and leave her alone from now on. She didn't think she could handle another one of his interrogations anytime soon.

Without further delay, she made haste towards the Slytherin Dungeons, the promise of flopping into bed and resting before dinner urging her onward.

When she arrived back at her common room, she found that her friends were all there waiting for her. Abraxas and Cygnus were playing a game of Wizards Chess, while Tom sat nearby in a big armchair, already working on his homework from the day.

She smiled at the sight. A boy after her own heart. She honestly thought she would never see the day.

Druella and Rosaline, who had been chatting by the fire, came running up to her when they noticed her, soon followed by the boys as well.

"What took you so long?" Druella asked.

"Are you alright?" Abraxas and Tom asked at the exact same time.

"We were beginning to think that the Gryffindors had kidnapped you or something," Rosaline remarked.

She shook her head, giggling slightly at the idea. She was tempted to reply that it had been Dumbledore who kidnapped her, but she didn't feel like explaining. It wasn't that she was necessarily keeping it from them. She would tell them, or at least partially anyway, once she had had the proper rest and time to digest all of it. With her current state of mind, she was having trouble making sense of everything that had happened.

"I'm fine, just a bit tired," she assured them. "As for the Gryffindors… I don't think we'll have to worry about them for a while."

At first they seemed confused by what she had said, giving her odd looks, but they gradually began to realize what she meant one by one. Tom, being the first to catch on and Rosaline being the last.

"What did you do?"

Rather than being outraged, they seemed happy… excited even… She supposed that this was the kind of thing that would impress Slytherins.

"Nothing that they'll remember," she said rather ominously.

Tom stared at her with such an intensity that it made her cheeks heat up. His eyes were sparkling like a kid who had just received the gift he wanted most of all for Christmas.

"Now, if you don't mind, I think I'd like to take a bit of a nap."

Moving past her friends, she crossed the room to the girls dormitory, the sounds of her friends laughing and calling after her with praise and thanks following her as she went. She still wasn't exactly proud of what she had done, but it was nice to know that they actually appreciated what she had done for them.


	11. The Knight Bus

The rest of the school year passed by as if in the blink of an eye for Hermione and soon enough it was time for her and Tom to return to Wool's Orphanage for the summer. Needless to say, neither of them were particularly looking forward to it. Hermione did her best to enjoy her last day at Hogwarts, making sure to take her fill of the food and spending as much time as she could in the company of the new friends she had made.

Not much had happened after Dumbledore's interrogation, or at least nothing noteworthy. Dumbledore never bothered her again, or Tom for that matter, so that was good. Classes were still boring for the most part, with the occasional surprise. Professor Renshaw had proven to be most excellent in DADA, much more capable than any of the professors she had in her own time. And as she had expected or rather hoped, the Gryffindors now kept their distance from them. Though, that didn't stop them from throwing the occasional nasty look their way.

All in all, it was a pleasant, stress free year. There was no three headed dog to get past, and no near death experiences. Thank Merlin for that!

Unfortunately, there was no use delaying the inevitable and before long they were back on the Hogwarts Express to London.

Her and Tom were joined in the compartment that they had christened as their own by Abraxas, Druella, Rosaline and Cygnus, even going so far as to jinx the compartment to make sure that no one but them could ever enter. Anyone who tried would find themselves mildly electrocuted and repelled back. That was the result of a joint effort on Cygnus and Tom's part.

Once they were done with that, they settled down for the ride and struck up a conversation over their respective plans for the summer.

"My family and I are going back to France for the summer to visit my aunt and uncle," Druella claimed. "I'm so excited to go back. There is no place better for shopping than the streets of Paris."

"I'll be spending most of the summer with my father at home. My mother is going to stay with my sister and her husband in Ireland to help them prepare for their new baby," Rosaline said. "Perhaps I can convince my father to let me come and visit you in Paris."

"Oh, that would be great!"

"I expect my parents will be hosting their annual summer ball at some point. Other than that, my plans primarily include training up for the Quidditch tryouts next year," said Abraxas.

"My summer will no doubt be consumed by family dinners and wedding plans," Cygnus rolled his eyes. "My sister, Walburga, is set to be getting married on the 28th of August."

That caught Hermione's attention. "Who is she marrying?"

"Our second cousin on our father's side, Orion Black."

She was filled with disgust at the thought of cousins marrying each other, even if they were second cousins. She had always known that there were some pureblood families who practiced inbreeding, but the realization had never hit her quite so hard as this.

Not only were Sirius' parents cousins, but they were getting married straight out of Hogwarts. She made a mental note of the date in which they would be wed, doing the math in her head to get an estimate as to when Sirius would be born. She had never asked him outright when his birthday was, but she knew it was sometime in November and that he had been somewhere in his mid to late thirties when he died. If she had done her calculations correctly then that meant that Sirius wouldn't be born for another twenty years or so.

Clearly Walburga and Orion didn't get along very well. Either that or all the inbreeding had affected their ability to produce children. Both were entirely possible.

She was tempted to make some remark on how disgusting that was, but she thought better of it and kept quiet. No one else seemed to find it all that strange, except for maybe Tom, who had a rather curious expression on his face. She could only assume that he had a similar reaction.

"So, do the two of you have any plans for the summer?" Rosaline asked.

Both of them shook their heads, neither speaking for the first while after that. It was a rather awkward topic, one that they didn't know how to approach. All of their friends came from wealthy pureblood families and went on these lavish holidays. There were times when they forgot about their differences, but there were also moments like these where they were left dreadfully aware.

"Well, we don't exactly have families to go on holidays with and there isn't much to do at the Orphanage," Hermione started hesitantly.

"Yeah, except keeping our heads down and making sure the muggle children don't steal our stuff," Tom added.

Oh yeah... That was definitely something they were going to have to deal with. It was no secret that they now had more possessions than the rest of the kids, and there were sure to be some who would be brave enough to try and steal from them. Perhaps Tom could put a jinx on their suitcases similar to the one he had placed on their compartment. That would surely scare them off.

Their friends looked at them with pity.

"I'm so sorry," Druella apologized. "I'll make sure to write to you as often as possible and I'll even pick up a souvenir for you."

"You know, I could probably convince my father to let you both come and stay with us," Abraxas offered. "He usually doesn't mind me inviting friends over."

Their hearts were in the right places, she knew that, but it still didn't make her feel particularly good about herself, as if she was nothing more than a charity case. She didn't quite know how to respond to their offers though, so she turned to Tom, waiting to hear what he would say.

"No thanks, we'll be fine," he said, his lips pressed together in a firm straight line.

The conversation died out after that as they each found ways to keep themselves occupied. Tom and Hermione cracked open a book while Cygnus and Abraxas started up a game of Exploding Snaps. Druella and Rosaline decided to braid each other's hair, which didn't take them long at all. They then decided to take on the monstrous task of taming and braiding Hermione's hair. Hermione let them do as they wished, laughing when one of the commented on how her hands could get lost inside her mane if they weren't careful

Once more the time passed quicker than Hermione would have liked as the train pulled into Kings Cross Station. The usual crowd of wizard parents and younger siblings had gathered on the platform to welcome them back. Rosaline and Druella eagerly ran off to reunite with their families, waving back as they went. Cygnus left not so eagerly.

Abraxas, on the other hand, insisted that he introduce the two of them to his parents as he dragged them along to go in search of them. Darius and Lucille Malfoy were the very epitome of sophistication, draped in the finest robes and furs that money could buy. There wasn't a single finger on Mrs. Malfoy's hand that didn't have a ring on it, and Hermione couldn't help but notice that Mr. Malfoy walked with the exact same snake head cane that Lucius Malfoy would carry in the future.

Clearly it was an heirloom, passed down from generation to generation of Malfoy Men. She had to stop herself from laughing as her mind produced an image of Draco Malfoy strutting around with the cane.

"Mother, Father, I'd like you to meet my good friends, Hermione and Tom," Abraxas introduced them.

Mrs. Malfoy was the first to come forward, extending a ring clad hand to them. "It's so lovely to meet you both," she said with a smile. "Abraxas has told us much about you in his letters home."

Hermione couldn't help but blush at that. She could only imagine the things that Abraxas had written about her. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, ma'am."

Tom shook her hand and gave a slight bow of the head, but said nothing.

"Oh, and so polite as well," gushed Mrs. Malfoy.

"I would expect nothing less from the friends of my son," said Mr. Malfoy. "You shall have to come and visit over the course of the summer, perhaps sometime after our family's annual ball when things have quieted down."

Hermione wasn't sure what to say. It was one thing to refuse an offer made by a twelve-year-old boy, but when the offer came from his powerful and no doubt influential father… well, he seemed like the kind of man who wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"Well, I suppose we could…" she started, turning to Tom to see if he had any objections.

He too seemed to be resigned to the idea.

"Why not."

Mrs. Malfoy clapped her hands together in delight, "Wonderful! We shall have Abraxas write to you at a further date with the details."

They nodded their heads in agreement, and after a few more pleasantries, parted their separate ways, the Malfoy's heading towards the giant fireplace that stood at one end of the platform to floo directly home, and Tom and Hermione heading to the other end, clambering through the barrier back into the muggle world.

The moment they stepped through, Hermione felt a pang of sorrow take up residence in her heart. She knew that they would only be gone for a few months, but still she missed Hogwarts. It had never been easy for her to leave all the magic she had experienced behind, and even harder to leave behind her friends.

She pushed away all such thoughts and feelings as they made their way out of the station and out into the darkened city streets. For now, they had to focus on finding their way back to Wool's.

"Do we have enough money to take the bus?" Tom asked.

Digging into her suitcase, she managed to find the small pouch of muggle money that they had procured from the school before they left. Counting out the change in her hand, she nodded her head.

"Just barely, but yes."

Sitting down on the corner of the pavement, they waited with keen eyes for a bus to pass by, pulling their Hogwarts cloaks tight around them to keep out the chilly night air. They waited for what seemed like hours and while lots of buses passed by, none of them stopped for them.

While they waited, she noticed that Tom seemed rather irritated.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Are you mad at Abraxas for inviting us to stay with him?"

He shook his head but didn't answer at first as he appeared to be staring down at his own reflection in a puddle. Finally, after a while, he glanced back over at her with an icy intensity in his eyes.

"It's just not fair... We are two of the most powerful witches and wizards at Hogwarts. We can do things that nobody else can even dream of doing, and yet we are pitied and scorned simply because of our circumstances."

Hermione knew exactly how he felt, for she had once felt exactly the same way. She had come to Hogwarts in 1991 eager to prove herself as a highly capable witch, only to be thought less of because of her muggle parentage. It was frustrating to say the least, causing her to work twice as hard as most others her age.

"I know what you mean, but there's not much we can do about it right now," she told him. "We just need to remember that it won't always be this way. Someday, people will realize our full potential and I know they'll be amazed when they do."

He nodded his head to show that he understood, though it didn't seem to better his mood at all.

After a while, she started to grow worried. Without a bus, they would have to walk all the way and that was considerably dangerous. The sky was getting darker by the second and it was only a matter of time before the shady figures of the city came out to play.

That's when she had an idea. Pulling out her wand, she held it out and cast Lumos.

"What are you doing?"

She held up a hand, motioning for him to wait.

Sure enough, a few moments later, a bright blue double decker bus came zooming up to them, seeming to appear out of thin air. Written on the front of the bus in big gold lettering were the words 'Knight Bus'.

A scraggly looking old man stepped out into view, gazing down at them with a toothless yet still kind smile. "Welcome to the Knight Bus; emergency transport for stranded witches and wizards. My name is Jonas Beesbottom and I will be your conductor for the evening."

By now, Tom had grown accustomed to the magical world and was no longer skeptical of things that seemed strange and illogical, and so it didn't take him long to recover from the shock. He got to his feet without hesitation, reaching out a hand to help her up as well, before grabbing his suitcase and climbing aboard.

"Where to?" Jonas asked.

"Wool's Orphanage," Hermione replied as she reached into her suitcase yet again and pulled out a few sickles, thankful that the headmaster had been smart enough to give them a bit of both muggle money and wizard money.

The old conductor glanced at them sympathetically before taking the money and heading up to the front of the bus.

Hermione had never ridden on the Knight Bus before, but she had heard about it from Harry and he had described it as one of the most terrifying bus rides he had ever taken. With that in mind, she sat down on one of the many beds scattered about the inside of the bus, one hand grasping her suitcase and the other gripping tightly to the bed frame.

She had just opened her mouth to warn Tom when the bus suddenly lurched forward and sped off down the street, causing everything in the bus to sway and slide around.

Tom let out a bit of a yelp as he lost his balance and fell forward, landing on top of Hermione on the bed, his face pressed against her flat chest.

"Sorry," he apologized as he pushed himself off of her, grabbing hold of the bed frame before he could fall off.

Squished together on the bed in a rather awkward position, they both did their best to stay firmly in place. Hermione couldn't help but be thankful for the fact that she was only twelve-years old. She never thought she would say this, but she was glad she didn't have boobs yet. It would have only made things more uncomfortable than they already were.

Forcing herself to look away, she waited for the ride to be over.

The bus twisted and turned past countless cars, only narrowly missing muggles crossing the street and even the occasional cat or dog. The crazy driving made her feel as though she was going to be sick, but she did her best to keep it down.

Finally, they came to a stop in front of the painfully familiar orphanage, the bed coming to a screeching halt as Jonas went over to open the door. "Here's your stop," he said.

Untangling their arms from the bed posts, they sat up, taking a moment to get over a dizzy spell before stumbling over to the door and off the bus.

"Feel free to call on us again if you ever need a ride," Jonas called out to them before the door closed promptly behind them and sped once more out of sight.

Yeah… Hermione wasn't sure if she wanted to go through that again… Hopefully they would be able to flag down a regular bus next time.

With a resigned sigh, they turned fully to face the orphanage that they had the displeasure of calling home.

"This isn't permanent," she reminded him. "One day, after we've graduated, we'll leave this place and never come back. Until then, we just need to stick together and try to get through it all."

Tom nodded his head, and slipping their free hands into one another, they started up the steps together.


	12. Malfoy Manor

"Watch this, Hermione!"

Hermione picked up her head, glancing up from the book in her lap at Abraxas' calling. With her eyes now on him, he proceeded to do all sorts of fancy tricks on his broom, from loop de loops to handstands. As much as she didn't like flying herself, she had to admit that his tricks were rather impressive.

That is… until he accidentally crashed into Tom and both went pummeling back down to the ground. Luckily for them, one of the garden topiaries cushioned their fall.

Forgetting about her book for the moment, Hermione got to her feet and rushed over to them.

"Are you alright?!" she reached out to help them up.

"I'd be better if Abraxas would stop showing off and keep his eyes on the sky!" Tom exclaimed, glaring at his friend as he picked leaves out of his hair.

Abraxas' face had turned as red as a tomato, clashing violently with his hair. "Sorry," he mumbled.

After a thorough check over, she determined that neither of them had been hurt badly, just a couple of minor scratches here and there. _Note to self; don't attend the Quidditch tryouts,_ she thought. He would have a better chance of making it without her there for support. It was plain to see that Abraxas was prone to throwing caution to the wind when she was around.

She shook her head… stupid reckless boys...

It was now nearing the end of August and Hermione and Tom had spent almost a whole month staying at Malfoy Manor with Abraxas and his parents. To say that it was a change was an understatement and had taken quite a bit of time for them to adjust. The Malfoy's lived a lifestyle that was totally opposite of their own. They ate three meals a day, slept in king sized beds that made you feel like you were sleeping on a cloud, and then there were their bathrooms, although they were more like miniature spas. Hermione had made good use of the gold clawfoot bathtub on many occasions, along with all the wonderful smelling bath soaps and body scrubs that they had on store.

Her favorite room in the house was by far the library. The Malfoy's had an endless collection of tomes and novels from all eras of history. She spent the first week inside glued to one of the comfy armchairs with a stack of books surrounding her. Tom had joined her several times as well and together they enjoyed learning things about the wizarding war that neither of them knew.

Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were all too generous with them, gifting them with nice clothes to keep and giving them lessons in proper etiquette as well as ballroom dancing.

While Tom seemed to thrive under their instruction, allowing himself to be molded into the perfect image of a pureblooded aristocrat, Hermione couldn't help but find it a bit odd. Why were they being so nice to them? Surely they didn't take such an interest in every orphaned witch and wizard they came across. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but there was something off about the look in their eyes, as if there was an alternate purpose behind it all. She didn't know quite what to think.

And then there was the issue with the house elves… From what she had observed of the family, they didn't appear to be mistreating their house elves, but they certainly owned a lot of them. There was one that worked in the kitchens named Dinky, one who worked in the library named Kippy, one who worked as a general housekeeper named Lolly, and finally there was Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy's personal house elf, Dobby.

She had nearly choked on her own saliva when Dobby suddenly appeared before her at Mr. Malfoy's call, not so much because she was all that surprised to see him, for she knew that house elves could live up to two-hundred-years, but because he actually looked healthy. His skin was a vibrant shade of pink and he was actually wearing a clean pillowcase. Not only that but he actually seemed to be happy to serve his master.

That fact alone spoke volumes to her, and after that she allowed herself to relax around the Malfoy's more. When it came to forming opinions on people, she tended to keep in mind something that she had heard Sirius tell Harry.

_"If you want to know what a man's like, look not at how he treats his equals but at how he treats his inferiors."_

It was a good motto to live by.

Tom and Abraxas were just about to kick back up into the air when Mrs. Malfoy came scurrying towards them, an uneasy look spread across her face. Abraxas must have noticed this also, as he quickly dismounted and went to meet her half-way. Her and Tom followed after.

"Is something wrong, mother?" asked Abraxas.

Mrs. Malfoy said nothing at first as she struggled to catch her breath for a few minutes. In her defence, the garden was rather large and they were quite a ways away from the house. It was a long way for someone to run.

"You must all come back to the manor immediately," she gasped. "An important guest has just arrived and he wishes to meet you."

Hermione swore that she was looking at her and Tom when she said that.

Noting the urgency in her voice, they followed without delay, though at a bit of a slower pace. As they got closer to the house, Mrs. Malfoy started fussing over them, smoothing out their hair and healing any and all scratches, muttering something about them looking presentable.

Who was this guest? It had to be someone truly important if he had Mrs. Malfoy in such a panic. The only people she could think of that might be cause for such a reaction were the Minister of Magic and maybe the Headmaster. However, she didn't understand why either of them would come all the way out here just to see them.

Mrs. Malfoy led them back inside, through the entrance hall, up the stairs and down the corridor. She finally came to a stop in front of the door leading to the green drawing room, her hand freezing on the door handle as she turned back to face them.

"The man you are about to meet is to be treated with the utmost respect. You must not speak unless you are spoken to, and you must do everything he asks of you," she warned.

A bad feeling washed over Hermione, making her shiver involuntarily.

Exchanging nervous glances among one another, the three children nodded in understanding.

Mrs. Malfoy's expression softened with relief at that, and after double checking everyone, including herself, to make sure everything was in place, she turned the doorknob and pulled open the door.

Inside, they found Mr. Malfoy seated on the velvet sofa with another man in front of the fireplace, a brandy and pipe in each hand. Their backs were turned to them, so they couldn't see who the other man was, but they were chatting away with one another about the latest news within the wizarding world.

Not wanting to disturb their conversation, Mrs. Malfoy waited until a break to discreetly clear her throat.

"I have brought the children as you requested."

Banishing their _indulgences_ , the two men rose and turned to face them, allowing them a view of the other man's face.

Upon first glance, Hermione saw nothing recognizable about him, but as he began to step towards them, she got a better look at him. She let out a small gasp as it registered in her brain who the man standing before her was.

He was a rather eccentric looking man, with short spiked light blonde hair, a thin moustache and mismatched eyes; one bright blue and the other almost black. She had never seen him with her own two eyes before, only read about him in books, but there was no denying it… The eyes were a dead giveaway...

"I'm so pleased to finally meet you all, especially you Miss Granger and Mr. Riddle," the man said as he came to stand in front of them. "Forgive me, you must be wondering who I am. My name is Gellert Grindelwald."

He reached out a hand towards them. Tom was the first to take it, bowing his head respectfully as he had been taught to do to his elders. Hermione, on the other hand, was reluctant to say the least. Moments passed as he kept his hand out waiting patiently for her to take it. Both Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were glaring at her from behind him.

"Don't worry, Miss Granger, you need not be afraid of me," he assured. "I'm not going to hurt you."

She couldn't exactly trust that statement, but with Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy glaring at her from behind him, she had no choice but to reach out and shake his hand.

One thing was for certain… She now understood why Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy had been so nice to them...

"I've heard reports of your power and intellect, far advanced to what any first year should be capable of," Grindelwald started to pace back and forth, stopping every now and then to glance over at them. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like for you to demonstrate your gifts for me. Mr. Riddle, I've heard that you are a Parselmouth? Is that true?"

Tom nodded his head.

Taking out his wand, which Hermione recognized immediately as the fabled Elder Wand, he gave it a wave and a snake shot out of it, slithering down to the floor in between them.

A smirk spread across Tom's face at the sight, making Hermione feel even more uneasy. She didn't like the way things were going at all, but there was no way for her to stop it. She could only play her part for now and hope that the damage wasn't irreversible.

_"Sssie asssssss silssssss essss vsssss,"_ Tom began to speak in Parseltongue.

The snake before him began to do a snap viciously at their feet. Mrs. Malfoy screamed and jumped into Mr. Malfoy's arms for protection. Then, at Tom's instruction, the snake stopped and proceeded to do a bit of a dance reminiscent of the Egyptian, and then, once it was done dancing, Tom called it to him, slithering up his body to finally curl up on his shoulder.

"Well done, Mr. Riddle," Grindelwald clapped at the display, a pleased grin on his face. "I'll admit, I haven't met a lot of Parselmouths in my time. As far as I know, there is only one other family in all of Britain. I don't suppose you've heard of the Gaunts?"

Tom shook his head, but you could clearly see that Grindelwald had succeeded in capturing his attention.

"The Gaunts are a family of pureblooded wizards descended from Salazar Slytherin, whom they inherited their ability to speak to snakes," Grindelwald explained. "I was just wondering if you were, by any chance, related to them."

"I wouldn't know, sir. My mother died giving birth to me, and my father… I don't really know anything about either of them."

"Ah yes, that's right, Darius did tell me that you were both orphans," Grindelwald nodded his head, as if only then remembering the fact. "Nevertheless, you are indeed powerful, just as the reports said."

With another wave of his wand, the snake vanished from Tom's shoulder into thin air. Grindelwald then turned to face Hermione.

"And you, Miss Granger… I hear you are particularly powerful as well. You master spells on the first try and know the answers to every question on a test. Would you care to show me what you can do?"

The plan was to perform a simple spell, that while being a bit more advanced that what she should know, was still rather unimpressive. She didn't want Grindelwald taking an interest in her, or in Tom for that matter. Trying to prevent him from becoming a dark wizard would be hard enough without Grindelwald's influence.

"Come on, Hermione, show him your blur fire trick," Tom whispered to her.

"Blue fire?" Grindelwald must have heard them. "Yes, please do show me this trick of yours."

She cast a quick glare in Tom's direction, but relented in the end. Grindelwald clearly wasn't going to leave her alone until she showed him. Perhaps it would be best to show him just how powerful she was… give him a taste of what he could expect from her if he ever tried to cross her.

Stepping back to put some distance between her and everyone else, she held out her hands and silently muttered the incantation in her head, focusing all her energy on how much she hated Grindelwald for trying to persuade her and Tom to the dark side, as she was sure was his true intention.

Blue flames encircled her feet, rising higher and higher as her anger soared until it had almost completely engulfed her. She could only vaguely see the others through the flame, but she was sure that they were left astounded. Mr. Malfoy tried to cast Aguamenti, but it did nothing to extinguish the flames.

Once it had sunk in that there was nothing anyone else could do to extinguish the flames, she finally allowed herself to calm, causing the flames to dwindle until they were gone from sight. The only proof that they had ever been there was a ring of scorch marks on the rug surrounding her. Thankfully Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy didn't seem to notice as they were too busy gawking at her.

No one spoke for at least five minutes after the flames were gone. Grindelwald was the one to break the silence as he stepped towards her.

"Where did you learn how to do that?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I didn't exactly learn it from a specific person or book. I've been able to conjure fire for as long as I can remember. I had taught myself to control it before I even got to Hogwarts."

"Do you know which magical family you come from?"

She shook her head.

Long had she suspected that muggleborns were descendants of squibs that had been cast out of magical families, but she had never done any research into who she was descended from. Perhaps that was something she would have to look into this time around. Who knows, she might even find some long lost wizarding relations that she never knew about.

"I think it is safe to say that the reports were all true. You both are remarkably talented, and are sure to have bright futures in store," he praised. "In fact, if you ever decide in the future that you wish to make a difference in the world, I would be honored to have you join my ranks. You as well, Young Mr. Malfoy. Powers such as yours deserve to be used for only the most worthy of causes."

And there it was… Just as she thought, he was hoping to recruit them in the future.

"We'll take it into consideration," she said, though she didn't mean it in the slightest.

Nodding his head, Grindelwald turned back to Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. "Thank you for welcoming me into your home, but I must be going now," he said, shaking their hands before retreating back to the fireplace. "I trust that you will not let word of this get out."

"Of course, Grindelwald," Mr. Malfoy assured him. "It is always an honor to have you."

Then, without further delay, he scooped up a handful of floo powder and left in a roar of bright green flames.

Once he was gone, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy turned to face them with big smiles, ushering them out of the room and urging them to go get ready for supper. They went without question, heading off back down the hall to their respective bedrooms.

Hermione had just opened the door to her own room when Tom reached out to stop her. "Did you hear what that man, Grindelwald, said? He's offering us a place within his ranks!"

"I heard him, but I'm not entirely convinced that I would want to join him."

"Why not?"

"I read some articles about him in the Daily Prophet. They say he's targeting muggles as well as muggleborns. I couldn't bring myself to help him kill my own kind," she replied in a hushed tone. "Besides, I get the feeling he just wants to use us for our powers."

He didn't say anything in reply, but he seemed to be pondering what she had said, much to her relief. At least she knew he listened to her. There was still hope for him yet. She only hoped that Grindelwald wouldn't bother them again anytime soon and that Tom might forget all about him.


	13. The Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I just want to let you know that the story now has a cover art that you can find on chapter one if you go back and check, created by the wonderful and talented, Avendell!

Hermione could scarcely believe that three whole years had already passed since her arrival. It seemed like just yesterday that she had found herself standing in front of Wool's Orphanage, and yet she hadn't been back there in a while. With the start of World War II, as well as the start of the Global Wizarding War, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy had thought it best that they stay with them for most of the summers rather than going back to the orphanage. Neither of them were too sad to leave the place behind, though Hermione couldn't help but be an extra bit on edge in the manor. Now that she knew their true loyalties, she wasn't nearly as trusting of them.

Not a lot had happened in their second year, or at least nothing much worth mentioning. Abraxas tried out for the Slytherin Quidditch Team and made Seeker. Tom decided that he'd rather not try out. While he was good at flying, he wasn't too keen to be playing on the same pitch as Abraxas, fearing that he might lose focus and crash into him again. Abraxas insisted that he wasn't that easily distracted, but Tom wasn't about to take that chance and Hermione was secretly glad to hear it.

However, third year was proving to be an interesting year, for two new students had made an appearance, reminding Hermione of her task. Myrtle Warren and Rubeus Hagrid had joined Hogwarts, with Myrtle being sorted into Ravenclaw and Hagrid being sorted into Gryffindor.

People couldn't help but gawk at the oversized boy wherever he went, and as expected, Myrtle was teased by the other girls because of her rather large glasses. Needless to say, neither of them seemed to have many friends.

Seated in the library with Tom, working on their essay for Care of Magical Creatures, she couldn't help but glance over at the half giant boy who was visibly struggling to squish himself onto a chair that looked tiny in comparison. It pained her to see him so miserable looking. Not one member of his own house had bothered to even try and befriend him. In fact, many of the other Gryffindors were snickering at his obvious struggle.

With a huff, she decided that she had had enough of it and began to gather up her books. "Come on, Tom, let's go sit with Rubeus."

Glancing up from the scroll he was writing on, Tom gave her an odd look. "Why should we? He's a Gryffindor."

"I don't care if he's a Gryffindor or even a Hufflepuff. He's sitting over there all by himself, clearly in need of friends, and his own house is just laughing at him," she told him. "Don't you remember what it was like being all alone at the orphanage, hated because you were different? This boy is really no different."

Tom hated it whenever someone brought up what he considered to be his shameful past, and Hermione knew this well, but sometimes she felt it was necessary to remind him as a means of humbling him. Besides, she figured that if she could get the two of them on friendly terms, then perhaps history wouldn't repeat itself. She felt she owed it to Hagrid to give him a chance at receiving a full magical education this time.

After a few minutes, Tom let out a sigh and began to gather his own books as well. "Fine, If it'll make you happy," he mumbled.

Feeling very pleased with herself, she made her way over to Hagrid's table with Tom in tow, taking a seat across from him.

Distracted from his chair for the moment, he looked over at them with apprehension, as if he expected them to jinx him or something.

She noticed that all the eyes in the room were on them. She had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes back at them. Honestly, was the idea of actually being kind and showing a bit of friendship to the boy that big of a deal?

"Hello there. You're Rubeus, right?" she greeted, extending a hand to him across the table. "I'm Hermione Granger, and this is Tom Riddle."

After a moment of two, he reached out and took her hand, all but smothering her own in his own much larger hand. "Call me Hagrid," he said.

He extended a hand to Tom as well, who seemed just as reluctant as him, before returning his focus to the essay he was writing.

"It's nice to meet you, Hagrid," she said. "You seem to be struggling a bit there. I can enlarge that chair for you, if you'd like."

His face lit up, "Yeh would do that fer me?"

She couldn't help but smile at him. It was so good to see him again, though it was admittedly a bit weird to see him so young and without the big scraggly beard.

"Of course."

Pulling out her wand, she pointed it at his chair, or rather what little she could actually see of it behind him, and cast a quick Engorgio. The chair immediately stretched a couples of sizes larger so that it fit Hagrid almost perfectly.

A big grin spread across his face from ear to ear. He looked happier than the time he found out that her and Harry had saved Buckbeak from execution.

"That feels much better, doesn't it?"

He nodded his head, his mess of hair, which was shockingly even more bushy than her own, bouncing as he did so. "Blimey, I need ter learn tha' spell meself," he remarked. "I dunno how ter thank ya enough."

She waved it off, "Don't worry about it. I'm happy to help."

The three of them fell into an easy silence after that as they worked on their essays together. She had chosen to do her essay on Phoenixes, as they were one of her favorite magical creatures, and Tom had chosen to do his own on Basilisks, much to her horror. When she asked him why he had chosen to do his essay on them, he said that it was because they were considered the 'king of the snakes'. She tried to reassure herself that he was simply interested in the creature because it was a snake. There was no way that he could know about the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets yet.

Being a couple years below them, Hagrid clearly didn't have Care of Magical Creatures yet, but that didn't stop him from taking an interest in it.

"What er ya learnin about in yer year?" Hagrid asked.

"Mostly Hippogriffs and Flobberworms at the moment," Tom replied. "Rather boring if you ask me."

"I dunno how anyone could be bored by a Hippogriff. I've read about em. Amazing beasts, they are."

Hermione rolled her eyes at Tom. "Pay no attention to him, he's just a bit salty because the hippogriff in class the other day didn't like him."

As she thought about it, she was reminded of her first encounter with Buckbeak and how he hadn't liked Draco Malfoy. Although, to be fair, that was Draco's fault, as he hadn't exactly treated the Hippogriff as he had been instructed to. When comparing the two, she had to say that Tom was certainly better than Draco. At least he hadn't been foolish enough to insult one.

"Ye'll get there," Hagrid assured him. "Proud beasts, Hippogriffs are. Yeh gotta show em respect."

Tom nodded but made no reply.

* * *

After they had finished up with their essays in the library, Hermione and Tom returned to the quiet solace of their common room and settled down in front of the fire with a book in hand. Hermione, however, had trouble focusing on her book as she was lost in thought, creating a mental list of all the people whose lives she wanted to improve.

Of course, her top priority was Tom, but she still wanted to help others as well. There was obviously Hagrid, and perhaps Moaning Myr- er, Myrtle… She kept having to remind herself not to call her by that ghastly nickname. And then there was obviously her new group of friends. She wasn't exactly sure how their futures played out, but she certainly didn't want anything bad to happen to them either.

She had to admit that she felt a bit overwhelmed by it all. The fate of the wizarding world was basically relying on her. Every year that passed brought her closer to the dark events in which she sought to prevent. It was a lot of pressure for one person to bear. She knew the way that things were supposed to go, but she realized that didn't necessarily mean that things would happen exactly the way they had before.

Having changed the past as she knew it, she had created an alternate timeline in which anything could happen at any time. There was no way for her to know when Tom might start showing signs of falling into darkness, and she hated that. She hated not being able to control what was happening around her, but she accepted that there was nothing she could do about it. She was only human, after all.

"Hermione, do you remember what Grindelwald asked me? About Parselmouths and whether I was related to Salazar Slytherin?" Tom asked her quietly.

A shiver ran down her spine. How could she possibly forget that encounter? Grindelwald's face had haunted her dreams ever since. However, she didn't want him to know that, so she shook her head instead.

Getting up from his seat, he went over and sat down on the armrest of her chair, holding out the book he had been reading.

She hadn't noticed what it was that he was reading beforehand, not seeing the need to, but perhaps she ought to have, for the book was titled 'Sacred Pureblood Bloodlines', and the page he had opened to showed the family tree of none other than Salazar Slytherin. Her eyes trailed down the tree until they landed on three names that she knew all too well; Marvolo Gaunt and his two children, Morfin and Merope.

"He asked me if I was related to the Gaunts, and at the time I didn't think I was, but it caught my interest and I've been doing some research," he explained. "My mother's name was Merope, and my middle name is Marvolo, named after my grandfather."

"Where did you learn all that?"

Tom looked away for a moment, "I might have snuck back to the orphanage and gotten the information out of Mrs. Cole."

Her eyes widened. When had this happened? When had he started to search for his family? Had he been doing this all behind her back? This whole time she thought for sure that he was doing fine… that there was nothing to worry about yet… apparently she had been wrong. He had already begun on the path to becoming Voldemort.

"I can't believe you did that," she whispered furiously. "You could have been caught. We're not supposed to use magic outside of school, and especially not outside of Malfoy Manor."

"Don't worry, I covered my tracks so that no one would trace it back to me."

Somehow that wasn't even the least bit reassuring...

"Surely this can't be just a coincidence. It makes too much sense for it to be a mistake. Grindelwald said that the only Parselmouths he's ever met were related to Salazar Slytherin. That means that I too must be related to him."

She had to admit that the evidence was pretty convincing. There wasn't much she could say to disprove it. Though she had a feeling that he wouldn't listen if she tried to argue the facts. It was plain to see that he was excited by this, and in a way, she couldn't blame him. He had thought that he was an orphan his whole life, and now there was a possibility that he had a family out there, just waiting for him to find.

"Aren't you happy for me?" he asked, noticing her less than thrilled expression. "Wouldn't you be happy too if you found some long lost relative you never knew?"

"Of course I would, and I am happy for you. It just... I know Salazar Slytherin didn't approve of muggleborns like me and… I guess I'm just afraid that you'll adapt the same view as him…"

Closing the book, he set it down on the end table and did something that surprised her. He reached out and took her by the arms, pulling her up and into his embrace. She had hugged him many times over the last few years, but he had never initiated a hug towards her before.

"I promise you, I would never let something like that come in between us," he whispered in her ear. "I may hate muggles for the way they've treated me… the way they've treated us… but I could never hate you. You will always be above them in my mind. No matter what happens."

* * *

Hermione was not her usual self in the days to come. Her grades didn't exactly suffer, but her hand wasn't the first to be raised in class anymore, nor was she the first to finish her assignments. She tried to maintain appearances around her friends, lest they worry about her, but it was especially difficult when Tom was around, not that he had noticed at all.

The Tom she knew was slowly changing before her eyes. He spent much of his time hidden away in the far corners of the library or in the boys dormitory, obsessed with learning all he could about Salazar Slytherin and the rest of his newly discovered family. He didn't exactly ignore her, per say, but he certainly wasn't as willing to spend time with her anymore. Any and all free time he had was devoted to research.

A part of her wondered if Harry and Ron had ever felt this way about her. She had to admit that there had been times when she had just run off to do research on something, but it usually involved something that would help them on one of their many adventures. She had never let herself become so obsessed by it that it caused her to neglect her friends. At least… she didn't think she had...

She wasn't sure who was to blame for Tom discovering his family so early on. It had been Grindelwald who told him about the Gaunts and their connection to Salazar Slytherin. As much as she wanted to just push all the blame onto him, she couldn't help but blame herself as well. If only she had been able to foresee that the Malfoys would be connected to Grindelwald. If only she had not been so blind to think that Tom would forget about him and what he had said. She could have prevented all of this if only she had known.

And yet, she reminded herself once again that while she may be a witch, she was still only human. She wasn't God. There would always be things that she couldn't control, no matter how hard she tried. All she could do was try her best.

Still, it didn't fully reassure her.

The fact remained that it was her duty to stop Tom from becoming Voldemort, and at the moment it seemed as though she had failed. How could she possibly fix this when he barely even had time to talk to her. She briefly considered the idea of staging some sort of major intervention; stealing all of his books while he slept or casting a spell so that he couldn't enter the library, but she didn't think that either of those ideas would work. He would just get mad at her for interfering. Besides, he would probably be able to counter any spell she cast to keep him out.

There were, of course, more brutal methods she could take to stop him. She could do the same thing that she had done to those Gryffindors in first year and cast a couple memory charms on him, or she could catch him unaware and stun him long enough to have a decent talk, but she didn't want to resort to such measures, vowing only to do so when she was sure that she had no other choice. She didn't want to have to force Tom to do anything, but rather she wanted him to do the right thing of his own free will.

"Hermione, wait up!" Abraxas called out as he ran to catch up with her, fighting his way against the stream through the crowded corridor.

Coming to a halt, she waited until he had reached her side before continuing on her way.

"Hey, don't you have Quidditch practice soon?" she asked. "If so, I should inform you that you're going in the wrong direction."

He shook his head. "There was a mix up with the schedule. The Ravenclaws are practicing now, and then the Slytherins are practicing after."

"Oh, I see."

They walked in silence for a while and every so often she would catch him staring at her. She wasn't sure if it was just her imagination playing tricks on her but he seemed a bit nervous about something as he kept pulling on his tie. It was almost as if there was something he wanted to say, but he was torn whether or not to say it.

They had just reached the entrance hall and started down the stairs to the dungeons when Abraxas finally decided to say what was on his mind.

"I couldn't help but notice that you've seemed a bit off lately, as well as Tom, and I was just wondering if the two of you had a fight or something."

She let out a sigh. She had wondered if it wouldn't be something about that. "No, it's not that we had a fight. It just… I don't know… It feels like we're starting to drift apart. He never seems to have time for me anymore and I fear that I'm losing him."

"If it makes you feel any better, he hasn't exactly been paying much attention to the rest of us either. I doubt he'll even have time to go to Hogsmeade this weekend," he said. "Speaking of which, I was wondering if you would want to go with me. I've heard that it's a lot of fun."

Hermione faltered in her steps. Had she not grabbed hold of the railing at the last minute, she would have probably fallen flat on her face down the stairs. Had Abraxas just asked her what she thought he asked her? She knew he liked her, but she never thought he would go so far as to actually ask her out on a date. She wasn't exactly the kind of girl that a pureblood like him should want to date. Then again, she supposed that him and his parents weren't as uptight about it as some were. They all thought that she was a halfblood and it never seemed to bother them in the slightest.

As she always did when making a decision, she weighed all the pros and cons. Did she want to go on a date with Abraxas Malfoy? He was admittedly quite good looking and was a nice enough boy with a decent amount of respect towards women. She liked to think that her parents, had they been present to do so, would have approved of him.

Besides, she couldn't remember the last time she had let herself forget about everything else and just have fun. If ever she needed a bit of a distraction, it was now. She could figure out how to deal with Tom after a fun day out.

"Sure, I'd like that."

Abraxas looked as though he was about to burst with joy, but he managed to keep his cool as he reached out and took her hand, pressing a kiss on top of it just like he had the day they first met in Twilfitt and Tattings

"It's a date."


	14. Hogsmeade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, just want to let you know that Eternalism now has a cover art, illustrated by Avendell! You can see it at the top of the first chapter!

Hermione might be called the brightest witch of her age when it came to matters of magic and learning in general, but when it came to matters of dating, she was ashamed to say that she was considerably less than brilliant. She had only really ever been on one date before and that was when Viktor Krum had asked her to the Yule Ball, and it had taken her hours to get ready.

Knowing very little about fashion in general, let alone the fashion of 1940, she decided to enlist the help of her two roommates, whom she knew to be experts on all things girly. Druella and Rosaline were of course over the moon with excitement.

Friday night was spent pouring over the dozens of magazines that the two girls had on hand, some of them even from France. Hermione couldn't believe some of the ridiculous articles inside, instructing girls to basically just sit still, look pretty and wait for the boys to make all of the advances.

As if she was going to sit around like some perfect little princess who was incapable of doing anything for herself. It was a blatant disrespect to her own intelligence and power. Any boy who didn't accept her for being who she truly was, wasn't worth her time.

After breakfast on saturday morning, the three girls locked themselves up in their dormitory and got to work. Hermione insisted on at least picking out her own outfit, settling for a nice sky blue dress with short lace sleeves and a white sash tied around the waist. It was one of her favorites, as it wasn't overly frilly and was reasonably comfortable, yet still nice enough to wear on an outing.

Pairing it with a silk neck scarf that she had gotten from Druella and a purse, she resigned herself to sitting down on the chair that Rosaline had transfigured, letting them do as they liked with her.

They doused her hair with bottle after bottle of hair potions until every last frizz was gone from sight and styled it to the latest fashion. Her eyes were brushed with a bit of light eyeshadow, her cheeks with a bit of blush and her lips painted bright red. They curled her eyelashes and applied a bit of mascara, which they had to physically restrain her for.

"There, you're all done," Rosaline said at long last.

Reluctantly, Hermione stood and went over to the full length mirror in the corner of the room. What she saw took her breath away. It was still her, that much she could see, but she looked almost exactly like the girls she had seen in the fashion magazines. She had to admit that it wasn't actually that bad of a look. Slowly she was starting to get used to the different styles. Though she was still secretly counting down the years until jeans and jumpers came into style.

"Très magnifique!" Druella exclaimed, coming up behind her.

"Abraxas won't be able to keep his eyes off you!" Rosaline squealed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. He could barely keep his eyes off her to begin with.

This would be her first real date, and with Abraxas Malfoy no less. She tried not to think about the fact that he was Draco's grandfather. Abraxas was nothing like Draco. Well… Maybe he was a bit like him, but not nearly as snooty. Abraxas was a nice boy who genuinely seemed to care about her.

Taking a deep breath, she gathered every ounce of courage she had to fight off the nervousness, and stepping back from the mirror, started out of the dormitory and into the common room, Rosaline and Druella scampering after her.

The boys were already there waiting for them when they arrived. Abraxas was seated on the edge of the sofa talking with fourth year Milton Mulciber, who was Rosaline's date, and Thorus Nott, who was Druella's date. Cygnus was nowhere to be found, and Tom was seated with his nose glued to a book as usual, no doubt reading more about Salazar Slytherin.

She never thought she'd be so annoyed at the sight of someone reading…

"Hermione!" Abraxas exclaimed, as he climbed off the edge of the sofa and came towards her. "Wow… You look beautiful."

Hermione felt her cheeks grow hot, "Thank you, Abraxas. You look nice as well."

And that he did. Having ditched his usual school robes, he was dressed in something a bit more casual and comfortable; a pair of plain black trousers, held up by suspenders and a white button down shirt tucked in.

He gave her a dreamy smile. "Are you ready to go?"

She nodded her head and had just taken hold of his arm, winding her own arm around his to head out when they stopped short.

"What's going on here?"

Turning, they found that Tom had finally tore his eyes away from his book and opened his eyes to what was going on around him.

"Have you forgotten, Tom? Today's our first ever trip to Hogsmeade," Abraxas reminded him.

If Tom was surprised by that, he certainly didn't show it on his face. His face was almost completely devoid of emotion, save for the dangerous look in his eye.

"Yes, I'm aware of that Abraxas, but I wasn't aware that you were going with Hermione."

A wave of coldness washed over her as she was bit by the realization of what was going on. No… It couldn't be… Could it be that Tom was jealous of Abraxas. She felt like screaming at the top of her lungs. He spent days obsessing over his new found ancestor and now all of a sudden he was acting all jealous? Unbelievable!

Abraxas opened his mouth to respond, but he never got the chance as Hermione beat him to it.

"Well, it's not like you were paying attention to anything but your books," she told him straight. "Honestly, what did you expect me to do? Sit around and wait for you to remember that I even exist?"

The room was so quiet after that, as no one dared to say another word. The only sound to be heard was the sound of fish from the Black Lake bumping against the glass of the windows.

"Now, if you don't mind, we should get going before everyone else leaves without us."

Leaving Tom standing there, she turned and started out of the common room, pulling Abraxas along with her as she went. Druella and Rosaline scurried after her a moment later along with their dates.

"I can't believe it!"

"You're incredible, you know that?"

She gave them an odd look. "What are you talking about?"

"You just stood up to Tom!" Rosaline explained. "You're the only one who's not too afraid of him to do so."

She faltered in her steps. They were all afraid of him? Why? When did this begin? It wasn't like he had done anything bad to them, at least not that she knew of, but she was starting to think that there was a lot going on without her knowledge. Were they really that afraid of him just because he was a Parselmouth, or did they already know that he was the Heir of Slytherin?

"Did you see the way he looked at you, Abraxas," Mulciber asked.

"You'd better watch out," Nott teased. "He might set a snake on you."

Abraxas stiffened slightly, but said nothing.

Hermione rolled her eyes. They were all being ridiculous. "Look, you have absolutely no reason to be scared of him. Sure, he can talk to snakes, but he would never set one on someone he considers a friend. Don't worry, I'll talk to him later, but for now we should forget about him and just focus on having fun."

They all agreed to that.

The walk down to Hogsmeade was quiet for the most part. Once there, the group split up, each couple going their own way. Druella dragged Nott off one way, eagerly listing all the places she wanted to go such as Madam Puttifoot's Tea Shop and the Blue Bauble Boutique. Meanwhile Rosaline and Mulciber made a beeline towards Honeydukes, both having a bit of a sweet tooth.

"Is there anywhere in particular that you would like to go?" Abraxas asked.

Of course, Hermione could think of a couple shops she wanted to visit, but she didn't want to end up dragging her date around to shops she knew he wouldn't like as the other girls had.

"Well, I wouldn't mind visiting Tomes and Scrolls, but aside from that I don't really care where we go," she said.

Arm in arm the two of them strolled the streets of Hogsmeade. It was different than she remembered it, much like Diagon Alley and pretty much every other place in the wizarding world. The main difference was that there was no Shrieking Shack towering ominously over the village. Then there was the fact that some of the shops were different.

Their first stop was Tomes and Scrolls. Hermione had to physically reign herself in to prevent herself from buying out the whole store. There were so many books that she would have loved to have, but she limited herself to no more than three that she simply couldn't resist buying.

She had just picked out her final book when she came across an intriguing book that she had never seen before. It was a thick book with a black spine. Written in neat gold script was the title _'The Fine Line between Dark Magic and Grey Magic'_.

Glancing over to her left, she saw that Abraxas was still preoccupied looking through a copy of _'Quidditch Through the Ages'_. He didn't seem to be in too much of a hurry to leave, and so she allowed her curiosity to take over and began to flip through the book.

It talked about wizards who had pushed the boundaries of Dark Magic and what had become of them as a result. One paragraph on Emeric the Evil in particular caught her attention.

_'Emeric the Evil, drunk with power, delved deeper and deeper into the dark arts until he was driven mad by it. There was nothing he would not willingly sacrifice in his pursuit, even his own wife and children … To this day, no one knows how or why, but it is said that he performed a spell so horrible that, while it gave him power beyond what anyone had seen before, transformed him into a beast so vile that he could not bear to look upon his own reflection.'_

There was something about that paragraph that reminded her of Lord Voldemort. She wasn't sure if it was referring to horcruxes or if it referred to some other dark spell that was long lost to wizard kind. Either way, it still struck her all the same. The exact same thing was going to happen to Tom if she didn't stop it.

After a few moments of debating over whether or not to buy it, she finally relented and put back one of the books she had previously picked out. This one seemed like a more useful read than _'The Isle of Avalon: Myth or Reality'_ , no matter how much she wanted to know if it was in fact real.

Tucking it in with the other books clutched in her arm, she made her way over to where Abraxas was still flipping through his Quidditch book.

"You know, you should probably buy it if it's that interesting."

"I don't usually buy books for myself, but I think I will this one time," he said, closing the book and tucking it under his arm. "You must be rubbing off on me."

She giggled. "Well done, I'm so very proud of you."

They paid for their books and went on their way. Seeing as Abraxas had been so patient with her at the bookstore, she decided to indulge him by going with him to Spintwitches Sporting Needs, where he picked up a new pair of gloves and some broom polish, and of course, he couldn't leave a Quidditch shop without ogling over the newest and latest model of broomstick. What was it called again? The Nimbus 1000? She could never keep track.

Then they stopped by Honeydukes for a bit of a sweet treat as well as Zonko's Joke Shop. They didn't actually buy anything from there, but it was still fun looking at all the funny products.

At a quarter to noon, they met back up with the rest of the group at the Three Broomsticks. Hermione knew she shouldn't have, but she couldn't help but burst out laughing when she saw Nott and Mulciber come in, their arms filled with all the purchases their dates had made. Dropping the bags and boxes to the floor they all but collapsed into their chairs.

"You're lucky, mate," said Mulciber. "You got yourself a girl who doesn't treat you like a pack mule."

Rosaline and Druella just huffed and mumbled something about the obligations of men to cater to their ladies.

Abraxas smiled. "I am quite lucky, aren't I?"

Hermione rolled her eyes but couldn't help the bit of pink that spread across her cheeks.

After enjoying a meal of butterbeer and beef pasties, their time at Hogsmeade came to an end and they made the trek back up to Hogwarts. Taking pity on the fourth year boys, Hermione cast a shrinking spell to make it easier for them to carry everything, for which they were most appreciative.

"This was fun," Hermione said. "We'll have to do it again sometime."

Abraxas looked all too thrilled by the idea. "Of course! Whenever you want."

The Slytherin Common Room was mostly empty when they returned, with only a few younger students scattered about. Thanking the boys with a kiss on each cheek, Druella and Rosaline took their shrunken purchases and headed to their dorm to show them off to each other. Hermione knew that she'd probably get sucked into it as well if she followed them in now, so instead she chose to lounge back on one of the sofa's and read through the books she had acquired.

Abraxas went off to put away his own purchases.

Opening the book to the section she had left off in _'The Fine Line between Dark Magic and Grey Magic'_ , she began to read more about how people often divided magic into classes of good and bad, and how the author disagreed with this. He compared magic to money. While useful and necessary in many parts of life, both were neither good nor bad. It was all about how a person chose to use it and whether or not that person chose to let it control them.

 _A very useful book indeed,_ she thought.

She had just finished the page and was about to turn to the next when she heard an explosion come from the boys dormitory. A moment later, Cygnus came running out with what looked like an albino rat clutched in his hands. The rat was squeaking in a most unnatural manner, as if it was distressed, and she noticed that it's tail appeared to be singed.

He stopped at the sight of her and held the rat up for her to see.

The rat had bright blue eyes…

"He turned Abraxas into a rat!" he shouted.

Hermione felt the blood drain from her face. She didn't need to even ask to know who Cygnus was talking about. It was Tom… It had to be Tom… She had suspected that he might do something to Abraxas, but this… She supposed that she should just be glad he hadn't set a snake on him as Nott and Mulciber had warned.

Closing her book, she leapt to her feet. "Take him to see Madam Vervain and tell her that there was an accident with your Transfiguration assignment. I'll try to talk to Tom and make sure he doesn't do it again."

Cygnus didn't need to be told twice, as he nodded his head and ran out of the common room, careful not to drop his friend turned rat.

No sooner were they gone, then Hermione marched across the room and through the passage into the boys dormitory. The other boys in their year were found huddled together in the far corner of the room, trembling with fear, while Tom stood at the other end, staring furiously at a scorch mark on the floor, no doubt where the explosive transformation had taken place.

"What were you thinking, Tom!?" she exclaimed as she marched straight up to him, placing her hands on her hips in disapproval. "You turned a boy… a living being... into a rat! Explain yourself!"

He didn't reply, but rather stared past her at the group of boys huddling in the corner.

With a sigh, she quickly turned towards the boys and motioned for them to leave, which they were all too eager to comply with. She had never seen a group of thirteen-year-old boys so utterly terrified.

"He came in here and started bragging about how much fun you had with him and how he had made you forget all about me, knowing full well that I would hear every word he was saying," Tom began to explain. "I figured that if he wanted to act like a rat, he might as well be one."

Hermione wasn't sure if his story was entirely true or if it had been embellished to make her feel more sympathetic towards him. If so, it hadn't worked.

"Yes, I did have fun with him and he did help me forget about you, but only because he knew I was upset. You've been so obsessed with Salazar Slytherin lately that I had begun to think that you had forgotten about _me_! I've been so worried that I might be losing you to the darkness and then you go ahead and prove my fears by turning Abraxas into a rat without even a shred of guilt!"

She finally managed to evoke a visible reaction from him as his eyes widened. "You… You were worried about me?"

"Of course I'm worried about you, you prat! How could you possibly think that I would ever forget about you? You're not going to lose me so easily, but I need to know that I'm not going to lose you either and right now I don't know if I can believe that."

"Hermione…"

He tried to speak, but she wouldn't let him yet.

"What exactly have you been doing when I'm not around? Are you just going around terrorizing your roommates? That certainly is what it seems like. They are _all_ afraid of you now. Is that really what you want? For people to fear you? For people to hate you? Is it really worth it?"

Feeling that she had said all that she needed to say to him, she let out a deep breath to try and calm herself. Silence washed over them after that, but while Tom didn't say anything, she could see that he was deep in thought. She could only hope that what she had said was enough.

Then she remembered the book, which was still clutched firmly in her hand at her side, and an idea came to her. Maybe the book would be able to help him, or at the very least get the point she was trying to make across. She knew that books always helped her gain understanding, and Tom was quite similar to her when it came to matters of learning.

"I bought this for you at Tomes and Scrolls," she said, holding it out to him. "I thought you might find it interesting."

Pulling his eyes away from her, he glanced down at the book in her hands and reluctantly took it.

"Now, If you'll excuse me, I need to go to the hospital wing and make sure that no one rats you out."

With nothing more to say to him, she turned and left the room.

She wasn't entirely sure, but rather she hoped that Madam Vervain knew enough about Transfiguration to undo such a spell. The only other person who might be able to help was Dumbledore and she definitely didn't want him to find out about what Tom had done.

She shook her head. How many more times was she going to have to cover up for Tom? Quite frankly, she was getting tired of it. For everyone's sake, she could only hope that this would be the last time.


	15. Boggarts

News spread quickly within Slytherin House that Tom was not someone to be messed with, lest the consequences be severe. No one dared to bother him as he went about his business, even going so far as to avoid him like the plague. It didn't seem to bother him, though. Perhaps this was what he wanted after all. Fear came with a certain sense of power and control and those were two things that Tom prized.

It had taken a couple of days in the hospital wing, but Madam Vervain came through in the end and managed to return Abraxas to his human form. Embarrassed that they had seen him as a rat, he tried to keep his distance from the others in their year, especially Hermione. She had tried to assure him that it was no big deal and that she didn't think any less of him because of it, but he didn't seem to want to hear it.

Oddly enough, Abraxas actually seemed to be drawing even closer to Tom as a result, which was the complete opposite of what she had expected. It was almost as if the show of powerful transfiguration had impressed him, as he kept complimenting him. Although, Tom didn't seem to be phased by any of it and ignored him for the most part.

Hermione and Tom hadn't spoken much either since the whole ordeal, but Hermione was pleased to find him reading the book she had bought for him on more than one occasion, rather than his usual books on Salazar Slytherin. Whether the content was getting through to him, that she didn't know.

She was soon distracted, however, as it was announced that they would be doing a lesson on Boggarts in Defence Against the Dark Arts. It was a lesson that she both eagerly anticipated and dreaded at the same time. There was no doubt that it was sure to be an interesting lesson, especially when taught by the mysterious Professor Renshaw, who was easily her favorite professor, but knowing what she did about Boggarts, she knew it could be just as concerning as well.

"Now, as you know, we shall be dealing with Boggarts, today," said Professor Renshaw, pacing back and forth in front of the tall dark wardrobe that stood in the center of the room. "Who here can tell me what a Boggart is?"

Hermione's hand instinctively flew up into the air.

"A Boggart is a shape-shifter that takes the form of whatever it thinks will frighten us most," she answered.

"Correct you are, Miss Granger," Professor Renshaw nodded his head to her in approval. "What many fail to realize is that Boggarts can actually read minds. That is how they determine one's greatest fear. However, while strong and terrifying, it too is not without fear, and it is through it's fear of being laughed at that it can be repelled."

Hermione was surprised by this. Professor Lupin had never gone into that much detail to explain how Boggarts worked. She had been taught to think of it as more of a nightmarish force rather than an actual magical creature. How intriguing.

"We shall practice the incantation first... Without our wands," Professor Renshaw cast an icy glare towards a few students who had started to take their wands out.

Embarrassed at being called out by their considerably strict professor, they quickly slid their wands back into the pockets of their robes.

"Now, I need you to listen very carefully to what I say and repeat after me. It is imperative that you enunciate it correctly," he warned. " _Riddikulus!_ "

" _Riddikulus!_ " the class echoed after him.

He made them repeat it again a few times before he was satisfied with it and thought them ready to do it for real.

"Good, now draw your wands and form a single line. One at a time you will step up to the wardrobe and face your greatest fear. Keep in mind that it is not real, but simply a mirage meant to ensnare you. In order to be rid of it, you must force it to assume the form of something you find amusing."

The students pushed and shoved as they attempted to form a line. Needless to say that no one really wanted to go first.

Professor Renshaw sighed as he picked a student at random, a third year huffle puff boy, and dragged him to the front. The other students immediately stopped fighting and fell into line.

That was yet another thing she liked about Professor Renshaw. The way he was able to command respect so effortlessly and make students behave the way he wanted them to was impressive. Yet at the same time it was also rather peculiar.

She couldn't help but think back to her first encounter with him in Knockturn Alley and how it seemed as though their bodies were under some sort of spell. Was that how he got the students to do as he wanted? If so, how was he doing it? She had never seen or heard him cast any spell on them. Perhaps a wandless nonverbal Imperius Curse?

No… She was pretty sure that the Headmaster wouldn't let a professor cast the Imperius Curse on students as he pleased… Well… There was Mad Eye Moody, but that was a different story.

That wasn't it… So then, what was it?

Long had she had this secret suspicion, but she dared not entertain the idea. It wasn't something that she could just outright ask aloud. Besides, she still had yet to find concrete evidence to prove her theory.

"Alright, you may begin!"

Professor Renshaw unlocked the wardrobe and one by one students stepped forward to face the Boggart.

Most of them were pretty ordinary, taking the form of things like spiders and snakes, but some of them were a little bit more complex. For example, a Hufflepuff girl caused the Boggart to turn into a box that tried to suck her in, indicating claustrophobia.

When Abraxas' turn came, Hermione was sure that Abraxas would make the Boggart turn into either Tom or a rat. However, much to her surprise, it didn't. Instead it turned into… his father… Standing there with a look of disapproval across his face, The Boggart of Mr. Malfoy proceeded to yell at Abraxas about how much of a disappointment he was to him. Abraxas looked so defeated but then he remembered that it was only a mirage and cast the repulsion charm. His father then morphed so that he was wearing a poofy pink gown and a rococo style wig towering high atop his head. Abraxas burst out laughing, as did almost everyone else in the class.

Druella's Boggart turned into a version of herself that was hideous, covered in boils and warts from head to toe and puffed up like a balloon. Rosaline's turned into the image of an empty bank vault, and Cygnus' turned into his mother, who looked ironically like Walburga, nagging him to do various things like clean his room and find himself a nice pureblood wife.

Then came Tom's turn. Out of everyone in the room, his was the Boggart Hermione was most curious about. Thinking back on all that Harry had told her about him, she couldn't recall anything about what he feared most. She knew he hated being thought weak and unimportant, but only from her own personal experience with him. Could that be his greatest fear though?

It came soon enough, for when Tom stepped up to the Boggart it took the form of not one but two bodies. Hermione let out a gasp at the sight. She saw Tom and herself collapsed on the floor, pale and absolutely lifeless.

Tom let out a strange noise that sounded halfway between a gasp and a sob.

Death…

It was death that he feared most of all…

Suddenly she understood why Tom had made Horcruxes in her time. It was all because of his fear of death. However, that wasn't all… It wasn't just his own death that he feared now, but hers as well. All of the anger and frustration she had felt at his behavior melted away. He really did care about her. So much so that losing her was one of his greatest fears.

In the end, Tom couldn't find it in him to cast the spell, and Professor Renshaw had to step in to vanish it. The Boggart turned into that of a young woman dressed in 18th century attire. At first glance, Hermione thought the woman beautiful and wondered why on earth anyone would be afraid of her. Then she saw the neck… It was completely mutilated, as if it had been torn open by someone's bare teeth…

Professor Renshaw cast the spell without so much as a flinch and the woman faded from view.

"I'm afraid that's all the time we have today," he said in a hurry as he repelled the Boggart back into the wardrobe and locked the door. "We shall continue this lesson at a later date."

A chorus of groans and complaints echoed out as they gathered their things and began to shuffle out. Hermione couldn't exactly blame them. It just meant that they were going to have to go another day worrying about what the Boggart would turn into for them. Hermione felt the exact same way, which is exactly why she chose to take her time in gathering her stuff.

When everyone else was gone, she walked up to Professor Renshaw's desk and cleared her throat to get his attention.

"I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but I was wondering if you would let me face my Boggart on my own."

Turning back to look at her, Professor Renshaw gave her an odd look. "Is there a particular reason why?"

"I'm afraid that my Boggart might be bad… like Tom's…"

Despite the fact that she had done the whole lesson once before, she didn't know what her Boggart would turn into. She was sure that it wouldn't be the same as before, as she wasn't so terrified of failing her classes anymore. However, there was a fairly high chance that her Boggart could turn into something or someone from the future, something that she wouldn't be able to explain. She trusted Professor Renshaw enough to let him see her greatest fear, for she knew that he wouldn't ask too many questions.

"Alright, I'll allow it this one time, but don't expect any additional special treatment from me," he relented.

She smiled at him. "Thank you, Professor."

Unlocking the wardrobe once again, he motioned for her to step forward, waiting until he knew she was ready before releasing the Boggart.

At first, it looked like nothing more than a blob of blackness, but then it began to stretch and mold into the form of a man. Hermione let out a startled yelp as she got her first look at it's face.

She had never seen this man before, or at least not this form of him, but she recognized him immediately from Harry's excruciatingly detailed description of him. His crimson eyes bore straight into hers, his forked tongue jutting out of his mouth as he licked his lips, accidentally whacking the flat part of his face where a nose ought to have grown.

It was Lord Voldemort…

"What in Merlin's name is that!?" Professor Renshaw exclaimed, jumping back in shock.

Hermione didn't answer that… She couldn't… It was as if her whole body had forgotten how to function properly. All she could do was stand there and stare at him.

Slowly he began to step towards her until they were standing face to face, barely a foot in between them. Reaching out a hand, he ran a long pointed fingernail along her cheek, causing her to cringe as she felt it pierce through the tender skin. It was odd because she never knew that Boggarts were capable of taking on actual corporeal forms.

"Do you honestly think that you can stop _me_?" Voldemort hissed. "You are nothing more than a foolish and pathetic little mudblood."

Hermione gritted her teeth. It had been a long time since anyone had called her that. She supposed that she had grown a bit unused to it.

"My blood is no different than yours!" she spat back at him, finally regaining the use of her mouth.

Voldemort smiled his twisted smile at her, revealing the rotting jagged teeth inside. "You are correct. We are more similar than we dare to admit, but you are still much weaker than I. You let your feelings rule your judgment. You cannot stop me. There is no stopping the darkness that corrupts the heart, mind and soul. It is inevitable."

"You're wrong!" she retorted, yanking herself out of his grasp.

She knew that he was wrong. Love was far more powerful than he would ever know. In fact, it was love that had defeated him on more than one occasion. It was love that saved Harry, both as a baby and in his first year. Love was the very power that the prophecy spoke of, the power that Voldemort knew not.

"Deep down, you know that I am right," he insisted, holding his hand out towards her. "Join me, Hermione, and rule by my side as my Dark Lady. That is where you belong."

She shook her head, reminding herself that this wasn't really Lord Voldemort. The real one didn't exist yet, or at least she didn't think he did. There was only Tom and he had proven in this very classroom that he did in fact care for her.

With that in mind, she conjured up an image of the funniest thing she could think of and raising her wand towards him, cast the spell.

" _Riddikulus!_ "

Just like that, Lord Voldemort turned into a friendly looking circus clown with a curly red wig, a big red ball for a nose, juggling a bunch of cream pies that ended up falling on top of him.

She had just started laughing when she noticed Professor Renshaw. He was still standing there, just as rigid and shocked as before, but now his eyes were glowing red much like Voldemort's… not only that, but she could see a pair of shiny white fangs poking out from beneath his lips.

Her theory was finally confirmed. Professor Kieran Renshaw was in fact a vampire…

Remembering how the Boggart of Voldemort had scratched her, she quickly clamped a hand over the cut, as she was sure that Professor Renshaw could smell it.

"I-I'll be going now…" she stammered as she started to back away.

She didn't think Professor Renshaw would purposefully hurt her, but she wasn't exactly sure how much control he had over himself. Vampires were highly unpredictable when they were hungry. All rational thinking flew out the window as the blood lust took over. At least, that was what she had read.

"If you wouldn't mind, I'd like for you to stay a moment longer."

He then proceeded to lock the Boggart into its wardrobe for the final time before turning and motioning for her to follow him up into his office.

Hermione was a bit hesitant to do so. He seemed to be in fairly good control of himself. After all, he hadn't lunged at her yet, and there was nothing to stop him from doing so. No one else was around to see him. And yet, she found that she still trusted him, even knowing that he had the power to drain her dry. Somehow she knew he wouldn't.

And so, she allowed herself to follow him, up into his chambers.

The room was dark, all of the windows having thick curtains drawn over them to keep the sunlight. She had often noticed the way the shutters on the windows in the classroom always seemed to close shut as he entered. Now she knew why that was, just like she now knew how it was that he had controlled her and Tom back at Knockturn Alley.

That aside, it was a richly decorated room with a Persian rug laid across the stone floor, a huge 18th century desk and chair, and medieval looking tapestries on the walls, some featuring a family crest of sorts, no doubt belonging to Professor Renshaw, and others featuring classic scenes with kings and knights in shining armor. And then there were candles scattered everywhere, probably to make up for the lack of natural light in the room.

Crossing the room, he reached into a cabinet on the far wall and took out a tall vial filled with dark red liquid, which Hermione assumed to be blood, as he tipped his head back and drank it in a single clean gulp. When he turned back to face her, his eyes and teeth were back to normal.

"Is it true that you are a muggleborn, Miss Granger?" he asked.

There was no use denying it, seeing as Boggart Voldemort had made no effort to hide the fact. "Yes, it is true, but I try to keep it a secret from the other Slytherins."

He nodded his head in understanding. Being a former Slytherin himself, she was sure that he knew all too well what she was referring to.

"Are you, by any chance, aware of which magical family you come from?"

"No, I'm afraid not," she shook her head. "I've been doing research on the matter, but I haven't been able to find anything."

She found it strange that he seemed to be taking such an interest in her and her bloodline, and even more so the way he was looking at her, as if he was searching for something, though she had no idea what it was.

"I would recommend you try _'The Forgotten Lines'_. It is a book that holds the family trees of all the wizarding families who have died out or simply become lost throughout the ages. Many muggleborns have found their wizarding families in its pages. However, you will need permission to take it out of the library as it is currently situated in the restricted section.

"If you are truly interested, I can sign a note for you."

To say that she was surprised was an understatement. What had happened to not expecting additional special treatment from him? What made him change his mind?

"I'd appreciate it very much if you would do that for me, but I don't quite understand why you are offering."

"Think nothing of it. I am simply curious as to which family is to credit for producing such an exceptionally bright witch."

She had a hunch that there was a bit more to it than that, but said nothing, choosing to be grateful for the opportunity he was giving her instead.

Grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill, he scribbled down a quick note and handed it to her. His handwriting was most exquisite and neat, like old fashioned calligraphy. She had always adored calligraphy and had tried to teach herself how to do it, but couldn't seem to do it properly no matter what. It infuriated her to no end.

"Thank you for everything, Professor."

With the note in hand, she turned and started to leave, but got no further than the door before Professor Renshaw called out to her.

"In exchange for keeping the secret of your blood status, I must ask that you keep the discovery of my… affliction, shall we say... a secret," his tone of voice indicated a hint of urgency. "The staff have all been made aware of it, but the students… I would rather not have them disturbed by the information."

She smiled at him. "Don't worry, you're secret's safe with me."

Reassuming the appearance of the strict professor, he nodded rather stiffly and waved her away. "Off you go then."


	16. Revelation

Stepping out of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, Hermione closed the door behind her and went off with determination in her steps. She had two missions on her mind. The first was to find Tom and give him a hug, as she had promised herself, and the second was to find the book that Professor Renshaw had recommended to her and track down her magical family once and for all.

Luckily for her, she didn't have to go far, as she nearly crashed into the very boy she was looking for as she rounded the corner.

"Tom, there you are!" she exclaimed.

Not even giving a moment of preparation, she launched herself at him, engulfing him in a tight hug that caused him to let out a yelp of surprise. It only took a moment for him to squeeze her back just as tightly, though not before checking to make sure anyone was around to see them.

"I'm sorry if it seemed I was ignoring you, Hermione," he apologized. "I suppose I got so caught up in my search that I forgot about everything else, most importantly, you."

Pulling away, Hermione smiled up at him. "Don't worry, I forgive you, just try not to do it again."

He nodded his head, his eyes flooded with sincerity. He still looked a bit haunted from everything.

Perhaps it was because she had just come face to face with Lord Voldemort, but she couldn't help but take notice of just how handsome Tom really was. His eyes were so beautiful and deep that she felt as though she could drown in them. And his smirk… while others found it disconcerting, she found it mesmerizing.

How could someone as magnificent as him turn into someone as twisted as Voldemort?

Wait…

What?

_Mesmerizing? Magnificent?_ Where did those words come from? Though she couldn't exactly deny that they were true. He was both of those things… Not to mention that he was intelligent, being her equal in the matter of both knowledge and magic, as well as dark and mysterious, a dangerous yet oddly charming combination.

Shaking her head free from that particular train of thought, she focused back on reality and the missions she had set out to achieve.

"I was actually going to find you to see if you would want to help me do a bit of research of my own."

He raised a brow at that. "Does it have anything to do with that… _monster_ your Boggart turned into?"

Her body froze. "You… You saw that?"

"I noticed that you didn't follow the rest of us out, and I wanted to wait for you, because… Well, let's just say the Boggart lesson opened my eyes to things I had never realized before. I didn't mean to spy, but then I heard the Professor scream…" he trailed off.

Hermione didn't know what to think. Tom had seen her Boggart… He had seen Lord Voldemort… How on earth was she supposed to explain that to him? _'Oh, that was just a version of yourself that I've come to prevent you from becoming.'_ She silently scoffed at herself. As if that would work.

"I'm not quite sure why the Boggart turned into that, but I assume he was meant to be some sort of embodiment of evil," she excused. "Anyway, that's not what I need help researching on."

She told him all about what had happened after the Boggart and how Professor Renshaw had recommended a book to her in the Restricted Section on long lost magical families. While she was a bit disappointed by the idea that her magical family might be extinct, she was still curious.

"So, will you help me?"

"You're asking me to spend the rest of the day with you in the library, surrounded by books that are normally forbidden to all students?" He smirked his mesmerizing smirk. "Need you even ask? Of course, I'll help you."

She rolled her eyes at him, though she agreed that he did have a point. Why on earth would she ask that? Of course he would jump at the chance to access the restricted section. It excited him just as much as it did her.

With their friendship once more mended and better than ever before, the two of them started off towards the library.

Silence washed over them as they strolled the newly vacant corridors, but it was a comfortable silence. That was just the way their friendship worked. They didn't have to talk to each other non stop about pointless things as others did. It wasn't even that they had nothing to talk about, but rather that they simply appreciated a bit of silence every now and then in an otherwise noisy school.

When they got to the library, they headed straight towards the librarians desk and handed her the note. She looked it over carefully, inspecting the signature as if she suspected it was forged, before getting up and leading them over towards the huge locked gate that separated the two parts of the library.

"You are not to touch any of the books with chains, you hear me?" she warned them. "The last thing I need is to deal with a bunch of hornery books."

They nodded their heads in unison.

With a sigh, the librarian fitted the key into the lock and turned it. The gate unlocked and swung open for them to enter. The librarian stayed for but a few minutes as she watched them go, until she could not see them anymore and decided to return to her desk.

Tom and Hermione explored the forbidden part of the library, staring around in awe. To them, this was like their own personal paradise. Hermione had of course been inside before, but the thrill of being surrounded by so much unknown knowledge and magic never wore off.

"What's the title of the book you're looking for?" Tom asked.

"It's called _'The Forgotten Lines'_ ," she replied, glancing up at the labels on each shelf.

It didn't take them long to find the 'F' section. As Hermione began to glance at all the different titles on everything from famous fire-eaters to french foragers, she couldn't help but think of Harry and how he must have browsed through this very same section in their first year when they were looking for information on Nicholas Flamel. Of course, he hadn't found anything in here, as Nicholas Flamel hadn't exactly done anything dark, nor had he been forgotten.

There were times when she would remember her old friends and the life she had left behind. She wondered how they were doing without her. Had the Death Eaters attacked the school yet? Had Harry and Ron gotten out some way to go in search of the horcruxes? Were they even alive?

As always whenever her thoughts drifted to them, she shook those thoughts away. It did her no good to dwell on such things now. She had to focus on her own reality, not some reality that might not even exist anymore.

"Hermione, look over there."

Hearing that, her head snapped straight up and followed the direction in which Tom was pointing to.

At the very end of the section stood a tall pedestal, and on that pedestal was a thick blue book. Moving towards it, she carefully reached out and swiped her hands across it to wipe away all the dust that covered it. Written in thick gold lettering was the title _'The Forgotten Lines'_.

"This is it!"

A big smile spread across her face as she reached out to open it, only to find that it wouldn't budge. Her smile dropped. She searched every inch of the book, but could find no lock nor key hole anywhere on it.

"Perhaps we ought to go back and ask the librarian about it," she suggested. "It may require a certain spell to open it."

She started to turn to leave, but Tom reached out to stop her.

"I don't think so, Hermione," he said pointing to the rune markings just below the title. "I've read that some books require a drop of blood to open."

Of course! Why didn't she think of that? While generally dangerous and forbidden, Blood Magic was often used in certain things to ensure that only those of a particular bloodline were able to access them.

The fact that Blood Magic was involved made her feel uneasy. Would the book even open for her if she gave it a drop of her blood? She didn't even know for sure if her magical family was in the book. Though, the fact that she hadn't found them in any other book told her otherwise. And what kind of family would she find that their names were locked away in a book bound by such magic?

Taking a deep breath, she reached up with shaking hands to pinch her cheek. The cut on her face was substantially deep and still open, making it all too easy to squeeze a few drops out. Catching them with her finger, she reached out and smeared the bit of blood onto the runes.

A moment passed and nothing happened.

Then, all of a sudden, a gust of wind came out of nowhere and thrust the book open with a loud thud. Tom and Hermione jumped back in surprise. The pages tore out of the book and began to swirl around in the air, forming a tornado of paper.

Without even fully knowing what she was doing, she reached out towards it. One of the pages suddenly shot out of the tornado and straight into her hand. No sooner had it done so, then the tornado gave way and the remaining pages flew back into the book which promptly shut itself back up.

By that point, her whole body had started to tremble. She willed herself not to risk looking at it at first, wanting to give herself a bit of time to calm down and prepare for what she might find. _Whoever your ancestors are and whatever they have done, it does not define who you are,_ she reminded herself.

Turning the page over, the first sight that met her eyes was her name, glowing at the very bottom of the page.

_Hermione Jean Granger. Born in 1926 to Helen McAvoy & Jean Granger._

She couldn't believe her eyes. This couldn't be right. She was born in 1979, and yet the page said she was born in 1926, and her parents shouldn't have even been born yet, and yet there they were on the family tree, same names and everything. It was almost as if it had never been any different… as if she had always belonged to this time. However it had happened, she was secretly thankful that it had, as it meant she didn't have to make everything up.

"What did your parents do for a living anyway?"

"They were both dentists."

Tom's face paled. "You mean those psychopaths who butcher your mouth and pull all your teeth out?"

She cast an odd look his way. "I don't know what kind of dentists you've been to before, but my parents were nothing like that. They only pulled teeth when they were rotten or loose."

Rolling her eyes at him, she returned her focus to the paper in her hand. Her eyes traced the family tree upward from her mother's side. She passed over several generations of muggle relatives, not including her parents, before she finally found the family squib.

She nearly choked on her own saliva when she saw the name.

_Eimile Renshaw, born in 1832 to Maria Bones & Aiden Renshaw. Died in 1899._

No… It couldn't be…

Her curiosity growing more and more by the second, she continued on her way up.

_Aiden Renshaw, born in 1810 to Evelyn Bluebell & Kieran Renshaw. Died in 1910._

And there it was.

_Kieran Renshaw, born in 1789 to Saorise Murphy & Charles Renshaw._

There was no death date.

Suddenly everything made sense. Professor Renshaw's strange behaviour… his sudden interest in her family and his willingness to help her find them… But how? How did he know that she was related to him?

"He's a vampire, isn't he?"

She nodded. "Yes, but don't tell anyone."

Then she remembered.

He must have smelt her blood when Boggart Voldemort cut her cheek with his finger nail and recognized the scent. Vampires had an excellent sense of smell, far superior to that of any other being, except perhaps werewolves. There had always been some debate, mostly between the two rival races, over who could smell better, but that didn't matter now.

Not only had she found her magical family, but she had also found a living relative… her only living relative…

She didn't know how to feel about it all. On the one hand, she was thrilled by the idea of being related to her favorite professor. She didn't even care that he was a vampire. However, she couldn't help but wonder why she had never known him in her own time. Why hadn't he still been teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts? He was better than all the professors they had combined. Did something happen to him in between now and then.

It wasn't easy to kill a vampire. In fact, it was almost impossible, so she was sure that he would have still been alive at the time. Perhaps he had retired and gone off to live in hiding somewhere? That was the only logical explanation.

"This is an incredible find. Imagine, being able to go and talk to an ancestor of yours who's lived for over a hundred years," Tom remarked. "You must have a lot of questions for him."

Indeed she did. To have found such a relative was much like finding the book before them. Both were filled with long forgotten knowledge and stories that she was thrilled to learn, but she had to tread carefully. She didn't know how Professor Renshaw felt about the whole ordeal, and more importantly, how he felt about her. For all she knew, he might not want anything to do with her from now on. Though, she supposed he wouldn't have seemed so interested if that was the case.

"Yes, but I think I'll wait a bit and see what happens," she claimed. "In the meantime, why don't I help you do some research on your ancestor? That way I can make sure you don't accidentally ignore me again."

He raised a brow at her in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"It seems only fair that I help you find your family in return for helping me find mine."

His face lit up. This had clearly pleased him.

"Just promise me that you'll remember one thing," she added. "Our families… They don't define us. Just because your family did some horrible things, doesn't mean that you have to do the same. You are your own person, and you shouldn't let their opinions dictate your thinking."

He gave her an odd look but still nodded his head. "I'll keep that in mind."


	17. Family Ties

Though they searched and searched for weeks on end, Tom and Hermione could find no trace of anyone of the Gaunt Family ever attending Hogwarts. There were no records, no trophies… nothing... Even Headmaster Dippet didn't know anything. It was truly strange.

Hermione knew that Salazar Slytherin hadn't left the school on the greatest of terms, but was the grudge that strong that his descendants weren't allowed to attend even a thousand years later? She supposed that it was entirely possible for a family such as the Gaunts, who clung so desperately to blood purity that their family line was practically extinct.

With a sigh, she shut the book she had just finished reading and pushed it off to the side along with the pile that they had already finished.

"This is getting ridiculous,"Hermione said. "We've read through every book in the library on Slytherin, even in the Restricted Section, as well as the library at Malfoy Manor, and yet we haven't found anything of use."

"We found out that Slytherin built a secret chamber somewhere in the school," Tom pointed out.

Unfortunately, that was the one piece of information that their research had led them to.

"We don't know that for sure. It's only a legend, meaning that It might not even exist. For all we know, it's just a tall tale invented to scare the students," she argued. "Besides, even if it did exist, it doesn't help you find your family."

Tom leaned back in his seat, letting out a yawn.

They were currently situated in the Room of Requirement, which had been transformed into an exact replica of the Restricted Section, a place that had become their own special meeting place. Very few knew that the place even existed, making it a perfect retreat for them when they wanted to get away.

A cloak suddenly appeared out of nowhere, telling them the time. It was nearing curfew, meaning that they had been researching for four hours. They would have to return to their common room soon.

"Maybe we should ask Mr. Malfoy if he can arrange a meeting with Grindelwald over the summer," Tom suggested.

Hermione tensed. "Why would you want to do that?"

"He's the one who told me about the Gaunts in the first place," he reasoned. "If he knows about them, he might know where to find them as well."

She bit her lip. She didn't like the idea, though that was mostly because she didn't like Grindelwald. Though they claimed to fight on opposite sides, the truth was that Dumbledore and Grindelwald were still similar in many ways. When she thought of all the people who had placed their unwavering trust in Dumbledore and how they had met their end, it wasn't difficult to see. They both used people to achieve their goals. She wasn't sure which one of the two was worse.

"Do you really think he'll just give you the information you want? Especially if you call him away from the war he's currently fighting. He'll want you to join him, I'm sure of it."

He nodded his head. "I've done some research on him and exactly what it is he stands for, and I believe you may have misunderstood. He doesn't hate muggleborns as you think he does. He believes that all magical beings ought to be free to live without having to hide who they are, and quite frankly, I agree with him."

Hermione didn't know how to respond to that. She knew she ought to try and turn the situation around somehow, finding a way to prevent Tom from getting involved with Grindelwald, but she didn't know how to.

"I know we're not of age to actually fight in the war, but we can still make a difference. We've been oppressed by muggles for far too long. It needs to end."

His mind was clearly made up. The only problem was that hers wasn't.

She knew the outcome of the war and who would triumph in the end. Dumbledore would defeat him, breaking their blood pact and take the Elder Wand from him. Grindelwald would then spend the rest of his life imprisoned within his own fortress. That is if the timeline didn't change too drastically… With the way things were looking at the moment, she wasn't too sure about that.

What was she supposed to do? Dumbledore hadn't left her any instructions on what to do in regards to the war with Grindelwald, only that she was meant to stop the war with Voldemort… whatever it took…

She shook the mess of thoughts from her head. "I don't know what to do. I would prefer to stay out of the war, but I will consider it."

This answer seemed to please him, or at least enough to let the subject drop.

Tidying up their books, they stood and started out of the room. No sooner had the door closed behind them, then it disappeared and they found themselves standing in front of what looked like an ordinary stone wall and across from the familiar tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.

"You'd best be getting off to your common room, young 'uns," said Barnabas. "It's gettin mighty late."

And so they hurried, going as fast as their legs could take them without breaking into a full out run. There were still a few students out and about, though most of them were prefects. The Gryffindor Prefects glared at them as they passed, while the Slytherin Prefects ignored them, pretending not to see them.

They had just passed the bathroom on the second floor, when Hermione came to a screeching halt. She had passed it by so many times over the years, never hearing a sound from it, that she had forgotten the sad history with it. Now, as she stood there, she could hear the all too familiar sound of sobbing coming from inside.

She cast a quick glance over at Tom. While he might suspect that the Chamber of Secrets was in fact a reality, she was pretty sure he had yet to discover it's whereabouts, let alone open it.

"I know what you're thinking, Hermione, and we don't have time for it."

By now, Tom had gotten used to the fact that she often stopped to help people. Mind you, he wasn't too pleased about it. In fact, it was something that often annoyed him.

"You don't have to wait for me if you don't want to, but I want to check and make sure she's alright."

He opened his mouth to object again, but Hermione turned and left before he could do so.

She pushed open the door and stepped inside. The bathroom was much like she remembered it, only considerably drier as it wasn't constantly being flooded. Upon first glance, she couldn't see anyone else in there, but then she heard a muffled sob coming from the stalls.

It didn't take long to find the one it was coming from.

First she knocked on the door. No one answered. She knocked again. Still, no one answered. Finally, not knowing what else to do, she pushed the door open a crack to peak in. Seated on the floor in front of the toilet, hugging her knees to her chest, was a very much still human, Myrtle Warren.

"H-Have you come to laugh at me as well?" Myrtle asked in a small timid voice.

Hermione shook her head as she crouched down in front of her. "Why? Is someone being mean to you? Someone in your house?"

Myrtle nodded her head. "Olive Hornby," she sniffled. "She called me ugly… and she made fun of my glasses."

Hermione remembered hearing Moaning Myrtle complain about this Olive Hornby girl, and how she had chosen to return as a ghost so that she could get her revenge on her… Even haunted her brother's wedding, if she recalled correctly.

"Well, that's not very nice and not at all true either."

Myrtle looked up at her with big watery eyes.

"You're not ugly and neither are your glasses," she assured the young girl. "People like Olive Hornby are just bullies. They put people down to make themselves look better, because deep down they're just as insecure about themselves."

She knew all too well what it was like to be bullied, not because she wore glasses, but because of her hair and her former buck teeth. Everyone had something that they didn't like about themselves. It was just the way things were. You could spend your whole life trying to change yourself into something you weren't or you could choose to accept the way you were made.

"You're not like the other Slytherins… You're nice…"

And there it was… The classic stigma against Slytherins… It had never bothered her as a Gryffindor. In fact, she had kind of gone along with it at the time, but now that she was a Slytherin, she knew better. It had opened her eyes to an extent.

"Not all Slytherins are evil, just like how not all Gryffindors are good."

Myrtle nodded her head in understanding.

Rising to her full height, Hermione held out a hand for the first year Ravenclaw to take. Myrtle was hesitant at first, but accepted the hand after a few moments and let Hermione pull her up.

When they left the bathroom, Hermione was met by a surprising sight. Leaned up against the wall beside the bathroom door was Tom. She had expected him to go off without her, seeing as he wasn't the most patient man in the world, but he had stayed and waited for her after all.

Myrtle began to fidget at the sight of him and moved behind her, as if she was frightened of him.

By now, Hermione had gotten used to the fact that everyone was afraid of him. Druella and Rosaline often asked her how it was that she wasn't afraid of him herself. To be honest, she didn't see any reason to be afraid of him. She knew that he would never purposefully hurt her.

"Will you be able to find your way back to your dormitory on your own?"

Myrtle nodded her head.

"If Olive Hornby ever bothers you again, I want you to remember what I said. Can you do that?"

Myrtle nodded her head again.

And with that, she motioned the younger girl off, waiting until she was out of sight before turning back to Tom and continuing on their way.

"Thank you for waiting for me," she smiled at him. "I know it must have been annoying to you."

Tom muttered something inaudible under his breath, but she thought she saw a tinge of red on his cheeks.

They managed to make their way down to the dungeons without encountering anyone else. Hermione suspected that they might be a bit past curfew, but she found that she didn't care all that much. Being able to meet Myrtle and hopefully having her gain a bit of confidence in herself as a result was more than worth it in her mind.

However, Hermione was in for another surprise. For no sooner had they reached the entrance to their common room, then she heard a voice coming from behind her. Professor Renshaw seemed to appear out of thin air, and considering what he was, he could have well enough done just that.

"Miss Granger, may I speak to you for a moment?" he asked. "It's about the most recent assignment in class."

At first she was confused as to what he was referring to. Why would he want to talk to her about their recent assignment. They were currently learning about werewolves and he had asked them to write an essay on them, rather begrudgingly, but still.

Then she caught on. He was referring to their last conversation and the book he had recommended to her. It had been a couple of weeks since that, and with all the research she had been doing to find Tom's family, she had nearly forgotten about the discovery of her own.

"Of course, Professor," she replied.

Tom glanced between the two of them before catching on for himself and slipping off through the passageway to give them a bit of privacy.

Professor Renshaw led her away from her dormitory and back up into the castle. This time, they passed many prefects and even other teachers, who gave them strange looks as they passed, but Professor Renshaw ignored them all. Hermione assumed that he must be used to people staring at him. He certainly did stand out in a crowd with his commanding gaze and his unearthly aura.

Stopping in front of his classroom, he opened the door, allowing her to enter first before following her in and closing the door behind him. She noticed how he cast a locking charm on it this time. He clearly meant for this to be a private discussion.

"Forgive me for disturbing your evening, Miss Granger," he apologized as he took a seat at his desk, conjuring up a chair for her to sit across from him, "but, I'm sure you can understand why I chose to speak with you so late."

She imagined that night-time was the only time he could freely roam the castle as he pleased. It was kind of sad to think about. Never being able to go out and enjoy the sunlight… It was definitely something that she would miss.

"I was wondering if you had had the chance to seek out the book I recommended to you. "

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the paper that the book had given her and slid it across to him. She waited for a minute to let him get a look at it, which didn't take long with his advanced eyesight. A melancholy expression took up residence on his face as his eyes seemed to be trained on one name in particular.

Hermione could only assume who it was.

"She was your wife, wasn't she… The woman your Boggart turned into..."

He nodded his head. "Yes, that was Evelyn."

As tempted as she was, she thought it only polite that she refrain from asking him how she died. From the looks of it, she hadn't exactly had a peaceful end, and she wasn't sure if Professor Renshaw would be comfortable speaking about it.

He examined the page for a while longer before casting a doubling charm on it, keeping one copy for himself and handing the other back to her.

"Well, it would seem that you are my… descendant…" he trailed off. "It is strange. I never expected to find that my bloodline had continued."

She raised a brow at that. "What do you mean?"

He didn't reply at first as he seemed to be lost in his thoughts, staring off into blank space.

"I was… turned… when Aiden was only five years old. My _sire_ led me to believe that he had killed both my wife and my son. I saw Evelyn's body… exactly as you saw it that day in class... He offered to show me my son's body as well… I just couldn't bring myself to see him..."

Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes as he recounted the terrible fate that had befallen his family… that had befallen her family… No wonder she had never known about him. The poor man must have thought he was alone all that time.

"To find out that he lived on and had a family of his own… It brings me both relief and sorrow."

She could only imagine how he must have felt. Believing that his son was dead for over a hundred years, just to find out that his son had actually survived, and that he had missed out on so much. It was heartbreaking.

"Alas, what's done is done. You are here and I'm sure you have many questions for me."

She nodded her head. There were so many questions that had been floating around in her mind these past weeks, and even more so that had been in her mind for years. She had finally found someone who could answer them for her. Still, she didn't want to overwhelm him too much. She would start with the questions she was most curious about and leave some of the minor ones for a different time. After all, Professor Renshaw had all the time in the world.

"I couldn't help but notice that your wife's maiden name was Bluebell. Is she, by any chance, related to the inventor of the Bluebell Flame?"

"Indeed she is."

Apparently Evelyn's own father was the inventor of the spell, as their family had once been well known for their affinity with fire based magic. Hermione showed him what she could do with the Bluebell Flame, explaining how she had always possessed the same affinity with fire, which seemed to impress him.

"What about your side of the family? What were they like?

The Renshaws were an old pureblood wizarding family, though not as strict about their blood purity as some, who made their living as wood farmers, supplying wand makers with the different types of wood they needed. He told her about how he was the first in a long line of Renshaws to forsake the family business and pursue a different career, and how he had originally begun teaching at Durmstrang.

As she already knew, he had been sorted into Slytherin during his time at Hogwarts, but what she didn't know was that his wife had been sorted into Gryffindor. She listened intently as he spoke of their secret romance and all of the times they had been forced to sneak around to be together, escaping from some very close encounters with their respective houses prefects.

She was so caught up in their conversation that she barely noticed the time pass. When she finally tore her eyes away from her Professor and caught a glimpse of the clock, she was shocked to find that it was already midnight.

"I suppose I should return you to your dorm now," Professor Renshaw said as he rose from his seat. "Sometimes I forget that everyone else sleeps at night."

When he put it like that, she couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Being a vampire sounded fun in theory with all abilities such as advanced senses and speed, but it also came with a permanent sense of loneliness and torment, knowing that everyone around you would fade away while you alone remained.

A part of her wasn't quite ready to leave yet. There were many more things that she wanted to know about him and many more things that she wanted to share with him. However, he did have a point. As much as she might like to stay up all night and talk to him, she knew she needed her sleep. She needed to be well rested and alert for her classes tomorrow.

"Do you think it would be possible for us to do this again sometime?" she asked as she turned to leave. "If you don't mind, I think I would like to get to know you better."

He pondered it for a few moments, as if he was hesitant, before finally relenting. "If you insist, but I must warn you that there are some things about my past that I can not discuss simply for the sake of your safety, as well as my own."

There was something about the way he spoke that made her shiver involuntarily, but she wasn't about to push him for any further explanation.

"I understand."

They said nothing more to one another as he led her back out of the classroom and back down to the dungeons, but Hermione swore she saw the corners of his pale lips tug upward ever so slightly. He may not show it very well, but she got the feeling that deep down he was just as happy to have found a living family member as she was.


	18. Little Hangleton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update everyone, I was taking a bit of a break.

_'Mr. Riddle,_

_It was truly a surprise when I received your letter, though not at all unwelcome. Seeing as I am currently out of the country at the moment, I am unable to meet with you, but I am honored that you have chosen to come to me with this request._

_I fear that I do not know the Gaunts as well as you might hope. They are highly secretive and not easy to find. To be honest, I don't even know if they are still alive. From what I've heard, Marvolo died a few years ago. His son, Morfin, hasn't been seen or heard from since. While I may not know his exact location, I can provide you with the address of his last known residence._

_Situated on the outskirts of Little Hangleton in Lancashire, you will find a cottage that belonged to the late Marvolo Gaunt. It is a bit off the beaten path, but you should have no trouble finding it, as it is easy enough to spot._

_I hope that this bit of information will serve you well and that you will find what you are looking for._

_Gellert Grindelwald'_

Their third school year had passed, bringing yet another summer. The Malfoys had allowed them to come home with them and spend the entire holiday with them rather than return to the Orphanage due to the increasing amount of bombings in the city. Despite her warnings, Tom had gone ahead and written to Grindelwald with his request for information about the Gaunt's.

His reply had come only yesterday, and Tom insisted on going to find this cottage as soon as he could, begging Hermione to come with him. Of course, she wasn't about to let him go out there on his own.

The very next morning, Mr. Malfoy, who just so happened to own a state of the art muggle car, drove them out to Little Hangleton himself. It was a three-four hour drive from Wiltshire to Lancashire, and Hermione found that it passed by painstakingly slow.

They arrived in the quaint little village fairly early in the evening. Mr. Malfoy dropped them off at the very edge of the forest, promising to wait for them as he lit up a cigar.

What they found was not at all what they expected...

Grindelwald surely wasn't kidding when he said it was easy to spot. The so-called cottage that stood before them was hardly more than a run down shack, which appeared as if it had been long abandoned. The grass around it was unkempt and almost level with the windows, which were boarded up with old cracked planks. The thatched roof had many holes in it and the door looked as though it was ready to fall off its hinges at any moment.

"Is… Is this really the place?" Hermione asked.

Tom said nothing. He just stared at the shack, particularly at the dead snake that was nailed to the door, in horror. For someone like him, who valued snakes as close companions, it must have been like a nightmare.

A feeling of dread washed over her as she tried to prepare for what was to come. From what she had heard, Morfin Gaunt was not a pleasant sort of man and she was not looking forward to meeting him, but she knew that it had to happen. Tom needed to know the truth about his family. That much was inevitable.

"Do you really think that someone lives inside?"

"There's only one way to find out…"

Reluctantly they made their way up to the door, struggling through the tall grass to reach it. Hanging on the door, just underneath that of the dead snake, was an old rusted door knocker. Picking it up, Hermione banged it a couple times.

Minutes passed and no sounds were heard. Tom turned to leave, but Hermione persisted in banging the knocker again. She knew for a fact that Morfin was inside. Either he hadn't heard them the first time or he was simply choosing to ignore them. Whatever the case, she was determined to see this through.

Then they heard something.

CREAK… CREAK… CREAK...

The sound of floorboards creaking alerted them that someone inside was approaching. A moment later, the door flew open, missing their faces by only a few inches.

On the other side stood a man who could only be Morfin Gaunt.

He was heavily deformed, no doubt the result of generation after generation of inbreeding. His nearly translucent skin practically hung from his skeletal frame. His thick dirty hair looked as though he had tried to cut it himself with a pair of garden shears, and there were bits and pieces of what looked like food tangled within. And his eyes… two tiny black orbs that starred off in different directions. He was a right fright to say the least.

_"Ess sssiithh ssssseissss ssaaysss!"_ Morfin hissed as he pressed the end of his wand to Tom's throat. _"Sssss hisssssss ssesssss lissss."_

Hermione tensed as she reached for her own wand and aimed it at him, ready to fight him off should she need to. She couldn't understand a word he was saying, as he appeared to be speaking in Parseltongue.

However, Tom, who could also speak Parseltongue, seemed to understand him perfectly fine.

Tom just stood there, frozen in place. "Wait, you know me?"

Drawing his wand back, Morfin pulled his hair out of his eyes to get a better look at Tom. His sunken eyes widened as he slowly lowered his wand and stumbled backward a couple steps, nearly tripping over his own baggy pant leg.

_"Siisss eessss ssssss?!"_

"My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle," he replied. "Are you Morfin Gaunt?"

She wasn't exactly sure what was going on with their conversation, but judging by the glint of recognition in his face combined with the fact that his face morphed with anger, she could only guess that Morfin had just figured out who Tom was.

Raising his fists into the air, Morfin went off into a heavy hissing fit. Whatever it was he said, it had left Tom horrified. At one point during his rant, Morfin broke off and staggered past them to the untamed hedge that surrounded the property. Waving them over, he pointed up to a manor sitting atop of a hill on the other side of the valley.

Even without understanding what he was saying, Hermione knew what it was… It was Riddle Manor...

Morfin hissed some more before promptly turning and staggering back to the shack, slamming the door behind him.

Her and Tom were left standing out by the hedge, silence hanging heavily over them as they each tried to process everything.

"What did he say to you?" Hermione asked after a while. "I couldn't understand a word of it."

Tom turned to her with a grave look on his face. His fists were clenched and there was bitterness in his eyes. It couldn't be good.

"He told me about my parents… My father is still alive and he lives in that house up there. He's a filthy muggle who abandoned my mother when he found out she was a witch!"

He was fuming mad.

"Tom, I know it sounds bad, but maybe there's more to-"

She hadn't even finished her sentence before Tom broke out into a run in the direction of the Riddle Manor.

Knowing full well what he was setting out to do, Hermione chased after him, running as fast as her legs could take her. She wasn't the worst runner, but she certainly wasn't the best either, and with Tom's long legs giving him an advantage, it was hard for her to catch up.

Tom had just reached the other side of the valley when he cast a disillusionment charm on himself, disappearing from view.

With a sigh, Hermione cast a disillusionment charm on herself as well before continuing after him. She may not be able to see him, but she knew where he was heading.

She managed to slip into the manor through the back door, presumably the servants entrance, and had just reached the stairs to the second floor when she heard a scream coming from above.

At that, she picked up speed, taking the steps two at a time as she raced to find them in time. She prayed that she wouldn't be too late… That she would get to Tom before he killed them all… The fact that she hadn't heard any explosions or seen a blinding flash of green light reassured her, driving her ever onward.

At the top of the stairs was a crossroad of corridors, forcing her to choose which one she would choose. Time was of the essence and should she choose wrong, it might just well mean the death of three innocent muggles. She stopped and listened for a second, hoping to hear something, anything that might point her in the right direction. Sadly, the manor was silent, save for the creaking of the floorboards beneath her feet.

Not wishing to waste any more time, she chose to go left, breaking into a run once more.

As she got further and further down the corridor, she started to hear voices in the distance. She could barely make out what they were saying or even who were the ones speaking, only that they sounded less than pleased.

The sounds led her to the very farthest room, to which the door was flung wide open. Bringing herself to a screeching halt, she hid around the corner of the doorway and peeked around the corner to see what was going on.

Inside stood Tom, with his hand outstretched towards that of a man in his mid to late thirties who could have well enough been Tom's doppelganger. This had to be Tom's father, Tom Riddle Sr. And behind his father were a much older yet still pleasant looking couple, presumably Tom's grandparents.

"Your mother was nothing but a tramp! To hear that she's dead fills me with relief. She deserved every ounce of pain and misery that she experienced."

Tom clenched his fists. "How dare you speak of my mother like that!"

Raising his wand, he looked as though he was preparing to cast a spell, and Hermione could only guess which spell that was.

With that, she chose to make herself known and, lifting the disillusionment from herself, charged into the room.

"Stop!"

At the sound of her voice, every head turned to look at her. The older Riddles were no doubt wondering who on earth she was, but she didn't pay much attention to them for the moment. Her focus was solely on the young man whose wand was still raised and ready to fire.

"Don't do this, Tom," she begged. "Lower your wand and listen to me… Please…"

Tom spared another glance back at his father before looking back at Hermione. After a few moments, he relented and lowered his wand, though he didn't make any effort to put it away.

"Look, I don't know what your uncle told you, but I wouldn't be too quick to trust what he said. Morfin Gaunt is something of a mad man, his mind and body damaged by centuries of inbreeding. He doesn't even speak any English!"

His eyes widened, as did everyone else's.

"Inbreeding?" asked Tom's Grandmother

"Is that why they were always so _strange_?" asked Tom's Grandfather.

Hermione nodded her head.

"Didn't you notice it Tom? In the Gaunt Family Tree you showed me? Your ancestors married primarily within their own family. Marvolo Gaunt's wife was his sister, and I can only assume that your mother, Merope, would have ended up marrying your Uncle Morfin had it not been for your father."

A part of her had always felt a bit sorry for Merope. What she did to Tom's father was not right, and she was very much against the idea of using a love potion to enslave someone, but that didn't erase the fact that she herself had been abused and enslaved by her own family.

"That doesn't change the fact that he abandoned my mother… that he abandoned me!" Tom insisted.

"No, it doesn't, but there might be a justifiable reason behind it!" she retorted. "Did your Uncle Morfin even know either of your parents' sides of the story, or was he just telling you his own interpretation of it?"

It was a long time before anyone spoke again, as everyone seemed to be deep in thought. Tom in particular seemed to be mulling things over all that she had said. Hermione was hopeful. Her words seemed to reach him. The Riddle Family had already lived longer than they should have. It was going well, or rather as well as it could go.

"Well, seeing as we're all here, why don't we all sit down and have a nice cup of tea while we try to straighten everything out?" Tom's grandmother suggested.

It seemed odd that the older woman would be so kind to them, acting as if she was delighted to meet them, when they had just broken into their home and tried to kill her and her family in Tom's case. Still, she wasn't about to refuse the offer. In fact, a cup of tea might be just what everyone needed to calm down and talk like civilized human beings.

"That sounds lovely," Hermione agreed.

Both Tom Sr. and Tom Jr. didn't seem too thrilled by the idea, but they didn't have much of a choice as the two women all but pulled them to the settee, making them to sit directly across from one another.

While Mrs. Riddle poured the tea, Mr. Riddle grabbed himself a glass of brandy from the bar, mumbling something about how he was going to need it to get through the rest of the evening. Tom Sr. glared at amber liquid, as if he wanted a glass as well. Hermione couldn't say that she entirely blamed them. This wasn't exactly the most pleasant meeting.

"I don't believe we've been properly introduced," said Mrs. Riddle. "I'm Mary and this is my husband, Thomas. Of course, you already know our son's name, seeing as you were named after him."

Tom nodded his head stiffly.

"At least the witch had enough decency to give him a good upstanding name. Heaven forbid she should name him after someone in her own family," Thomas remarked.

"My middle name is Marvolo."

"Swell…" Mr. Riddle rolled his eyes as he took a big long swig of brandy.

Hermione shook her head in disapproval. It was clear to see that none of the Riddle men liked each other, mostly because of the one trait that they each seemed to share: excessive pride.

Sensing the growing hostility amongst the men, Mary shifted the topic away from Tom and towards Hermione. "Pardon me, but I don't believe I caught your name, miss."

"My name is Hermione Granger," she introduced herself, extending her hand to the older woman. "I'm a friend of Tom's."

"I take it you're a witch as well?" Tom Sr. asked.

She nodded her head. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," Tom Sr. replied, his voice laced with bitterness. "Considering how the last one I met drugged me with some sort of love potion!"

And there it was… The truth was out…

Years had passed since the incident and still it seemed that Tom Sr. had yet to forget about it. Seeing as he didn't seem to have remarried or had additional children of his own, she could only assume that Merope had scarred him for life. In a way, she felt sorry for him and for all that he had to go through. Of course, he wasn't exactly the nicest about it either.

The more she thought about it, the more she wondered why the whole ordeal hadn't been better dealt with. Surely there were people within the Ministry who knew what had happened? Dumbledore knew the story. Why didn't they come to erase his memory like they did in other muggle related cases? Why was Amortentia even legal to be brewed and sold?

Leaping from his seat, Tom Sr. stood towering over his son, raging on about everything that Merope had done to him, how he had spent months imprisoned within his own mind, believing that he loved her yet unable to understand why.

"And then, one day I wake up to find myself in bed with a woman I barely know and have absolutely no feelings for whatsoever! Oh, she begged me to stay with her, using every thing she could think of to trick me into staying with her," he ranted. "I didn't even believe her when she told me that she was pregnant! I just assumed it was another one of her tricks! How was I supposed to know that she was actually telling the truth that time?!"

No one dared to speak after that, as everyone was far too shocked by the outburst to even think of speaking. However, the most shocked out of all was Tom himself. He just stared up at his father with wide blue eyes. For once, there was no anger or resentment in them. There was only shock...

After a while, Mary got up and tugged her son back down to the settee. He slumped back into the cushions, looking absolutely exhausted, as if his rage had drained him of all energy.

Then Tom stood, his face unreadable, and reached into his pocket. At first she thought he was going for his wand again and was about to reach out to stop him, but he didn't. Instead, he pulled out a tarnished mouth organ… the same mouth organ that he had shown her years ago at the Orphanage… the same mouth organ that had supposedly once belonged to his father.

"You can have this back," he said, holding it out towards father.

Hermione watched closely as a look of recognition overtook Tom Sr.'s face. With a trembling hand, he reached out and took the mouth organ, his eyes never leaving it's tarnished silver surface. It was almost as if a priceless family heirloom had been returned to him. Who knows, maybe that was the case.

Either way, Tom didn't stick around to find out…

"I'll get out of your house now and trouble you no further. You can just pretend that I don't exist if you want… I don't care…"

And with that, he turned and fled from the room.

"Tom, wait!"

Setting her tea cup down on the coffee table beside her, she got up and started after him. However, she hadn't gotten very far before she realized that he must have disillusioned himself again because he was nowhere to be found.

Coming to a halt in front of the staircase, she tried to think of where he might have gone. Surely he wouldn't go back to his uncle. Morfin hadn't exactly given him a warm welcome. None of his family had. She supposed that the first place to check would be the car, and if he wasn't there… well, she wasn't sure…

She had just started down the stairs when she heard Mrs. Riddle call out to her.

"Miss Granger, I'm terribly sorry for my son's outburst, but I'm sure that he'll come to his senses with a bit of time," Mary insisted. "Would it be possible to get an address or a telephone number? Despite everything that has happened, I would very much like to get to know my grandson."

Hermione managed to give the older woman something of a smile. Even if Tom's father wanted nothing to do with Tom, it would be good for him to have at least one relative who genuinely cares about him.

Conjuring a pencil and paper, she quickly scribbled down the address and handed it to her. "I'm so sorry for barging in as we did and thank you for the tea, but I really must be going. I need to find Tom before he does something he might regret."

Mrs. Riddle nodded her head in understanding.

And without further delay, Hermione took off into the night to find Tom.


	19. Grandma Comes to Visit

Tom's obsession had finally come to an end. Now that he had met his remaining family, as well as heard the truth of his own origins, he had no desire to learn more. There were no more trips to the Malfoy's Library, or at least not for that purpose, and there was no more talk of Grindelwald's offer.

Hermione should have been pleased by this, relieved that particular load had been lifted from her shoulders… but she wasn't…

Tom was not himself. He had never been overly talkative, especially around those he wasn't used to, but he had this spark in him that seemed to ignite whenever he was anxious to learn new things. She knew, because she was the same way. However, he seemed to have lost that spark since he found out the truth.

She tried distracting him with books and little tidbits of information she discovered about Nimue or Merlin. These were things that would have ordinarily grabbed his attention, but now failed to produce so much as a flicker.

It was as if he had lost all meaning in life, and it made her sad to see him that way. To an extent, she understood why he was feeling so down. She probably would have felt the same way had she found out that she came from a long line of incestuous, blood-supremacists, and that her father had been basically kidnapped and raped under the effects of a love potion, resulting in her conception.

At one point, she had thought to try talking to him about it, but when she even so much as mentioned his mother or father, he would glare at her and leave. It was a sensitive subject to be sure, one that he obviously wasn't ready for.

It was difficult to understand exactly how he was feeling, as she hadn't experienced such trauma herself, but she imagined that he felt at least somewhat disgusted at his family's behavior. She wished more than anything that he would open up to her about it, for she wanted to know how he felt.

Did he hate his father? Tom Riddle Sr. hadn't exactly been the nicest to him. He shouldn't have yelled at Tom as he did. After all, it wasn't Tom's fault.

Did he hate his mother perhaps? Merope was the one who had initiated these crimes against Tom's father. Not to mention, she had been awfully weak. Tom hated weakness. Before he knew the truth of his family, he had often debated which of his parents had been magical. He never believed that it was his mother, arguing that she would have surely saved herself from death if she had been. The fact that she had been a witch, and yet still chose to resign herself to death was sure to fuel such hatred.

She tried to give him as much space as he needed, while still maintaining a close proximity in case he should need her help.

And so, she waited… and waited…

Day passed, gradually turning into weeks, and still Tom remained the same.

By this point, she was starting to grow increasingly worried, as he seemed to grow more and more bitter. She needed to do something, and quickly at that. Otherwise, she feared that his anger and bitterness would fuel his dark side to take over.

But how?

The answer came soon after as she received a letter from Mary Riddle in Lancashire. It came as quite a surprise to her when Lolly, a house elf that she had quickly grown to adore, handed her the letter, for she had forgotten that she had given her their address in the first place.

_'Dear Hermione,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I am sorry it has taken me this long to write, for I have been busy trying to convince my husband and son to open their hearts to young Tom. Thus far, I have had no such success, but I have not given up. I still believe that, with time and patience, they will come around. One thing I've learned over the years is that Riddle men are terribly stubborn. Is my grandson like this as well?_

_Nonetheless, I would very much like to come and visit you, providing Thomas will let me. If it would be alright with your guardians, as well as with Tom, I was thinking of driving out to Wiltshire sometime soon. I hear it is a beautiful region, one that I have unfortunately not had the chance to tour as of yet._

_If this is agreeable, I would very much appreciate it if you would write back with an appropriate date and time._

_Yours truly,_

_Mary Riddle'_

Mary's letter was a delight to read, and had her laughing when she mentioned how the Riddle men were well known for their stubbornness. Tom was very much the same. When he set his mind to something, it was difficult to change his mind or make him do anything he didn't want to do, which was exactly the problem.

And so she began to hatch a plan behind Tom's back, running it by Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, just to make sure they were all right with it. They weren't too keen on the idea of a muggle coming to their house, but eventually agreed solely for the purpose of cheering Tom up. Having gained their permission, she eagerly wrote back and a time was set for Mary to come and visit.

Hermione tugged at the sleeve of her blouse, nibbling on her bottom lip nervously, as she sat in the music room with Tom, watching and listening as he played the piano, a talent that he had discovered since they had come to live with the Malfoy's. Every so often, she would glance over at the clock nervously to check the time.

Any minute now…

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Tom asked, startling her, as she had been so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn't even noticed him stop playing. "Is something wrong? You seem to be spacing out rather a lot today."

She forced a smile onto her face as she nodded her head. "Oh yes, why would you think that?"

Unfortunately, Tom knew her well enough by that point to be able to see right through her charade. "Don't lie to me. I can tell that something is going on. You're up to something. Now, what is it?," he said, fixing her with a hard gaze.

Hermione began to sweat. She knew that he would find out one way or another, but she wasn't sure how he would react. A part of her feared that if she told him too much ahead of time, he might somehow find a way to get out of it. Yet, at the same time, it would be better if she gave him a bit of a heads up.

Averting her gaze from him, she let it wander over towards the window, where she spotted a black Rolls-Royce pulling through the front gates. There was only one person it could be…

It was Mrs. Riddle.

Taking a deep breath, she turned back to Tom, secretly crossing her fingers in hopes that this wouldn't end up a complete disaster.

"Your grandmother is coming to visit today," she told him. "She's pulling into the driveway as we speak."

Tom's face went white as a sheet. "My grandmother is what?!"

Leaping up from his seat in front of the grand piano, he dashed across the room to the window where he saw the car for himself. It didn't take long for him to turn back to her, his expression now filled with rising anger as he advanced towards her.

"What is she doing here? Did he come with her? Why didn't you tell me sooner? Why did you even invite them in the first place?!"

To most, Tom could seem a right fright when he was angry, but Hermione was not afraid. Rising to her full height, she stood her ground against him, looking him straight in the eye. She had realized that he actually _liked_ being feared, as it made him feel stronger. The only way to get anywhere with him was to face him head on and not back down.

"Calm down. It's just her. Your father and grandfather didn't come with her," she explained. "I gave her our address before I left because she asked for it and because I believe that she genuinely wants to be in your life."

He scoffed at that. "I doubt that. She's probably just using that as an excuse to get back at my mother through me for what she did to her son."

And finally it came out. So, he was ashamed of what his mother had done after all. She couldn't entirely blame him there, but still, it wasn't right for him to think the worst of everyone because of it.

"Tom, listen to me. I know that your past is… _troublesome_ , to say the least, but Mrs. Riddle doesn't seem to care about that. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but I think you should give her a chance."

"But… she's a muggle."

"That doesn't matter. Even the Malfoy's are willing to overlook that fact for the moment. It's high time you all realized that not all muggles are bad."

Tom opened his mouth to protest again, but faltered before he could get the words out, deciding against whatever it was he was going to say. He remained silent for several moments, until the sound of the front door opening downstairs reached their ears. With the door open, they could hear the faint echo of Lolly's adorably squeaky voice greeting Mrs. Riddle, offering to take her coat for her.

"Please, just give her a chance. I know you've been hurt, but not everyone has bad intentions. She's just an elderly woman who wants to know her only grandchild."

Just then, Lolly popped into the room.

"Mrs. Riddle is waiting in the downstairs drawing room for you, Young Master," she squeaked. "Should Lolly tell her that you'll be right down?"

Tom glanced back and forth between Hermione and Lolly a few times before finally stopping on Lolly, nodding his head in resignation.

Lolly gave him a big cheerful smile before popping away again.

Reaching out for each other's hand, they started out of the room and down the hall, stopping at the top of the stairs to listen for a moment. From the sound of it, Mrs. Malfoy was already in the drawing room with Mrs. Riddle, the two women chatting quite easily.

She heard Tom take a deep breath, and Hermione gave his hand a gentle yet reassuring squeeze before starting down the stairs. As they got closer and closer to the drawing room, the sound of chatter was replaced by laughter. This could only be a good sign.

When they entered the room, they found the two older women, seated across from one another, each sipping a cup of tea that Lolly had doubtlessly made for them. The two women were so wrapped up in their own conversation that they didn't even notice them at first. It wasn't until Tom cleared his throat that they turned their heads in their direction.

"Oh, there you two are!" exclaimed Mrs. Malfoy. "Come and join us. Mary was just telling me about her garden back in Lancashire."

Letting go of Hermione's hand to go and sit in one of the overstuffed arm chairs on either side of the sofas, while she went and sat down next to Mrs. Malfoy. The armchairs were usually where the men of the house usually sat, either Abraxas or Mr. Malfoy himself. Hermione could only imagine that it made him feel a bit more confident and in control of the situation.

"So, Tom… Where do you go to school?" Mary began.

Tom glanced at Mrs. Malfoy, silently seeking her approval to tell her, to which Mrs. Malfoy nodded, motioning for him to answer the question.

"Hermione and I both attend a private school in Scotland, specifically for wizards and witches," he replied a bit stiffly.

"And do you like school?"

"Very much so," he nodded his head. "I like to think that knowledge is merely another form of power."

The topic remained on their education for the first while, as both seemed to be quite passionate about it. Hermione was pleased to see Tom return to his usual self. She asked him about what subjects he took and which he excelled at most, and gradually Tom became more and more at ease with her around.

It was pleasing for Hermione to see wizards and muggles having a civil conversation for once. Unlike their last meeting, there was no screaming, no arguing, and much less hostility in the air.

"If I had to choose just one, I'd have to say that my favorite subject is Defense Against the Dark Arts," Tom claimed. "Hermione's… _grandfather_ teaches it."

She had been writing back and forth with Professor Renshaw throughout the summer, in an effort to get to know her own remaining family. Unsure of what else to call him, she had taken to referring to him as her grandfather, even going so far as to teasingly address him as such in her letters. He admitted that he wasn't entirely sure how to feel about that.

"Oh, really?" Mrs. Riddle asked, glancing from Tom to Hermione. "Forgive me, I've been wondering about this since the two of you both barged in on us that evening, but is Miss Granger your girlfriend?"

Hermione nearly choked on her own saliva when she heard that, and Tom seemed to have a similar reaction. With wide eyes, they turned to look at one another, cheeks flushed bright red, before quickly glancing away.

This seemed to amuse both of the older women.

"Um, no... Hermione and I are simply friends," Tom explained, running a hand through his hair as he did when he was feeling considerably less than confident.

"That's right. We were each other's only friend at the orphanage, what with us both being special and all," Hermione added.

"Whatever you say, dearies."

Neither Mrs. Riddle nor Mrs. Malfoy seemed to believe them.

They went on talking, thankfully dropping the subject and moving on to a different one, but it got Hermione thinking, refusing to leave her mind as quickly as she would have liked.

She had never really thought about it, but she supposed that at some point she would begin dating, or rather more seriously than she had, and eventually perhaps even get married. Of course, she didn't have to get married if she didn't want to. She could be just as happy as an independent woman, working to make a change in the world, but still.

Hermione was a logical person by nature, and she liked to think things through before making any decision. It wasn't the first time she had thought about her future. Back in her own time, before she had come back in time, she had considered it quite thoroughly, considering all of the boys in her life.

At one time, she had considered a future with someone like Viktor Krum, but she quickly shot that down. She didn't think herself suited to be with a famous Quidditch Player. Viktor was nice, but he wasn't the one for her.

Then, she had of course considered her two best friends. Ron had always had a bit of a thing for her, but she hadn't seen a future for the two of them, or at least not one that lasted. Harry, on the other hand, had been one of her best prospects. Unlike Ron, Harry actually understood where she came from, having been raised in the muggle world himself, and actually had a brain that didn't just think about food.

However, all those options were now gone, and she found herself having to consider new options.

Abraxas had previously taken an interest in her, but Tom had put an end to that. She believed that the two of them were better off just being friends. Cygnus was not an option for her. Though he seemed nice enough, he was still a member of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Even if his family would accept her, she wasn't sure she wanted to join their family.

She could think of no one suited to share her life with… save for Tom…

Glancing over at him out of the corner of her eye, she regarded him for a moment. He was the only other person she had ever felt truly equal with, and seeing as she was meant to stay by his side, it made sense that they would end up together in the end.

She shook those thoughts from her head. Now was not the time to be thinking about such things. There would be plenty of time for her to plan out her future after she graduated from Hogwarts.

Besides, Tom had said so himself that she was just a friend. He clearly wasn't interested in her like that. That was perfectly fine.

_Then why does it hurt to hear him say that,_ she thought.

They finished their tea, wrapping up their discussion as they did so, and soon it was time for Mary to leave. Mrs. Malfoy told her that she could come and visit whenever she liked, clearly having grown to like the muggle woman more than she initially expected.

Without even needing to be asked, Tom went and fetched her coat for her, helping her into it, which made Mrs. Riddle smile as she reached out and patted his cheek affectionately.

"You have grown into a fine young man, one that I am proud to call my grandson," Mary said. "I'm just sorry that I wasn't here for you sooner."

Tom said nothing. He just stood there, staring at her as if he couldn't believe she was real and actually touching him. It always made Hermione sad when she realized just how unaccustomed he was to displays of affection, even despite her own efforts to change that.

"It was nice meeting you, Tom. I do hope we can see each other again sometime."

After a few moments, he pulled out of his trance, and bowed his head respectively. "You as well... grandmother."

It seemed to please her that he had addressed her as such, and Hermione had to agree. They were making progress, and that was really all that she could hope for at this point. The Riddle Family as a whole had a long way to go before they would reach semi-decent terms with one another, but Hermione found that, much like Mary, she too had hope for them.


	20. Memories

Hermione hadn't dreamt of Harry and Ron since the beginning of first year. Of course, she still thought of them from time to time. Little things that she came across would occasionally remind her of them. She didn't see him very often, mostly due to their houses being rivals, but whenever she saw Fleamont Potter, she couldn't help but be reminded of Harry.

After nearly four years, she thought she had moved past it all… missing them… wishing she could wrap her arms around them one last time… heck, she even missed hearing them complain when she dragged them into the library with her… but unfortunately, she soon found out that she hadn't.

Not too far into the start of fourth year, Hermione had yet another encounter with Fleamont Potter. He didn't bother her, nor did he realize that she was even there. She had been walking along, on her way to Charms, when she spotted him talking with a Slytherin boy who honestly looked like he could have been Fleamont's twin, had he not been a few years younger.

"D-Does that mean you hate me?" the Slytherin boy asked timidly, staring down at his feet.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Fleamont reached out a hand and placed it on the Slytherin's shoulder. "Of course not. You're still my brother, Charlus, and nothing can change that, but you have to understand that things have changed. You can't just come running up to me whenever you want anymore."

Hermione's eyes widened. Fleamont had a brother? Two Potters? And one of them was a Slytherin? How come she hadn't known about this? Sirius and Remus always told Harry that his whole family had been in Gryffindor for generations. Had they not known about Fleamont's younger brother? Had something happened to him? Surely the Potters wouldn't cast Charlus out of the family simply for being a Slytherin… Would they?

"Hey, Fleamont!"

Fleamont's eyes widened as he spotted one of his friends running towards them in the distance. In a flash, his whole demeanor changed. Taking a step back from his little brother, his lips curled up into a snarl.

"You're disgusting, you know that?" he spat. "You're a disgrace to the Potter name. Now, get out of my sight!"

Poor eleven-year-old Charlus Potter began to tremble, his eyes filling with tears. His mouth opened as if he was about to question his brother further, but Fleamont didn't give him a chance and pushed past him to go to his friend. Charlus was left standing there in the middle of the hall, confused and alone.

Hermione had to clamp a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound of her gasp. She was tempted to go up to the first year boy and comfort him, but he ran away before she could. So, instead, she went and found the Slytherin Prefect, who just so happened to be Cygnus's older brother, Alphard. She told him what she had seen and Alphard assured her that he would keep an eye on Charlus.

The day went on, but the scene she had witnessed never left her, playing over and over in her mind's eye. She did her best to hide her bothered state from everyone, but of course, she couldn't hide it from Tom. He seemed to be able to read her like an open book.

That night, she dreamt of them again... In her dream, she was back in the same exact scene she had witnessed earlier in the day, only she had taken the place of Charlus, and in Fleamont's place was none other than Harry, a pair of emerald green eyes and a lightning-shaped scar setting the two apart.

 _"I miss you, Harry,"_ she told him, clinging tightly to him as she knew that she would lose him again if she let go. _"I wish you were really here."_

For a moment, everything was good and she was happy, but then it took a turn for the worse.

 _"I miss you too, Hermione, but you've changed. You're a Slytherin now. Gryffindors and Slytherins can't be friends,"_ Harry replied, yanking himself free from her arms.

_"What are you talking about? Of course they can. Hagrid and I are friends, despite our different houses."_

Harry rolled his eyes. _"Of course, Hagrid befriends all sorts of wild beasts."_

And then Ron showed up, appearing in place of the friend. Just like his grandfather, Harry pushed her away and ran to meet Ron, abandoning her without so much as a glance back. She tried to chase after them, yelling and crying for them to stop, but they just started laughing.

That's when she woke up.

Shooting upright in bed, she found herself drenched in a cold sweat and surrounded by her roommates. On one side was Druella and Rosaline, and on the other was Laverna, all staring down at her with looks of concern.

"Hermione, are you all right?" Druella asked. "You were thrashing around like crazy and screaming as if someone was trying to murder you!"

"We had to cast a silencing charm on the room so that everyone in the dungeon wouldn't hear you," Rosaline added.

It took her a few moments to calm down enough to be able to form coherent thoughts as well as words.

She was awake. It was just a dream, meaning it wasn't real. Harry would never say something like that. Though she tried her best to tell herself that, she couldn't be too sure. After all, it wasn't like she could just go and ask him, no matter how much she wanted to. They were over fifty years away from each other. That fact seemed to haunt her endlessly.

"I'm okay now. Sorry for waking you with my screams. It was just a bad dream," she assured them.

Laverna nodded her head right away and trudged back off to her bed, collapsing ungracefully onto the mattress and pulling the blanket over her.

Druella and Rosaline, on the other hand, did not leave her side so easily.

"Are you sure?" Druella asked. "You seem pretty disturbed by it, and… you were calling out a couple of names. Harry and Ron, I think they were."

Hermione stiffened. She had called out to Harry and Ron? She knew that she had done so in her dream, but she didn't think she would do the same out loud for everyone to hear. How embarrassing… this really was a mess.

"Who are Harry and Ron?" Rosaline asked. "I take it that you know them."

Hermione nodded reluctantly, trying to figure out a way to tell them who they were without giving too much information. As much as she wanted to confide in them, she knew she couldn't.

"Just some friends I left behind when I came here. I don't know if they're alive or… dead."

Taking her by surprise, Druella reached out and wrapped her arms around Hermione, pulling her into a gentle yet comforting hug. A moment later, Rosaline joined in the hug.

Overwhelmed by the warmth and kindness that they were showing her, she let herself go for the first time since she arrived, letting out every ounce of sorrow and regret she had been hiding inside as she burst out crying.

"Shh, it's okay. We're here for you." Druella soothed.

She was so tired of all these memories of her other life haunting her. All she wanted was for them to disappear. As awful as it sounded, she almost wanted Harry and Ron to disappear from her memory. Not entirely of course, but just enough so that she wouldn't always feel as though she was betraying them.

Of course, she knew she couldn't just obliviate her memories and be done with it. Her memories were what fueled her to move forward, reminding her of why she had come in the first place: to save the world and countless lives that had been lost. Without those memories, all would be for nothing.

However, it made her realize something. She needed to let go of the past, or rather the future. Physically she was in the 1940's, but mentally she was still at least partially in the 1990's. This couldn't continue. She couldn't afford to struggle with nightmares every time she saw someone or something that reminded her of her old friends. Like it or not, there would always be reminders. She had to get over it.

It made her realize something else as well. Her motivation had changed since the beginning. Yes, she was still doing this partly for the friends she had left behind, but she was also doing this for her new friends, including Tom himself. In fact, he had probably moved to the forefront of her list of reasons. She had grown to care about him over the years, probably more than she dared admit.

"Do you want us to stay and sleep beside you?" Druella asked. "My mother used to do that when I had nightmares. It made me feel a lot better."

"That might be nice. Kind of like a sleepover," Hermione agreed.

The two girls nodded their heads excitedly.

Grabbing a couple extra pillows off of their own beds, the girls climbed into bed with her, ignoring Laverna who was now snoring like a bear at the other end of the room. As with most quote on quote sleepovers, the girls couldn't help but talk and giggle for the first half hour, even indulging in a quick tickle fight, but eventually sleep overtook them one by one.

In her last waking moments, as she lay tangled in a mess of limbs and blanket, she made a decision to try to find a way to deal with her memories in the morning. And then she was gone.

* * *

There were only two people at Hogwarts whom she could think of that might be able to help her; her grandfather, Professor Renshaw, and Dumbledore. As you can imagine, it wasn't an easy decision. When it came to experience in this particular field, Dumbledore was undoubtedly the better option, but when it came to matters of trust, Professor Renshaw was the better option.

She didn't exactly trust Dumbledore. He hadn't bothered her or Tom at all since he had interrogated her in first year, but she sensed that he was still keeping his eyes on them. There was no doubt in her mind that if she went to Dumbledore with this, he would become suspicious and might try to find out what it was she was trying to forget.

Whereas with Professor Renshaw, he might be a bit suspicious about it, but wouldn't go to such extreme lengths to pry. In fact, she might even be willing to tell him. She had been doing a bit of research on vampires and she had discovered some very interesting pieces of information about them. In addition to many other fascinating abilities, their minds were impenetrable, meaning that not even the most powerful witch or wizard could perform occlumency on them.

With that, she made her decision.

She waited until the end of the day, once the sun had already set for the day and he could move about a bit more freely. Most of her friends knew that she met with Professor Renshaw quite regularly, once a week at most if their schedules permitted. She had told them that they were related, just not how. Tom knew the truth, but the others seemed to be under the impression that he was her uncle on her mother's side.

"Off to visit your uncle?" Druella asked.

Hermione nodded her head, as she climbed over the bench.

"You're so lucky to have an uncle that's so handsome," Rosaline sighed dreamily. "Is he married?"

Hermione giggled, shaking her head at her friend's antics. "No, but I don't think he's interested in dating. He still hasn't gotten over his late wife."

That much was true. He was careful not to show too much emotion, but she could tell that he missed her. Whenever she came up in conversation between them, he would clutch his chest, where he had hidden a locket with a miniature portrait of her inside.

"Do you want us to wait for you?" Abraxas asked.

She was actually surprised to hear Abraxas asking her this. He hadn't exactly paid much attention to her since the rat incident. Could it be that he had finally regained the nerve to talk to her again?

"I appreciate the thought, but there's no need for you to put your evening on hold for me."

Besides, she didn't exactly know how long this was going to take. It could take an hour or all night. Either way, it was better if no one was waiting for her.

Taking off out of the Great Hall, she made her way through the halls and up to the Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom, passing only a few students as she went, mostly prefects who were coming back from a meeting. She also passed Alphard, who briefly stopped to inform her that he had talked to Charlus, who was now feeling a bit better. It pleased her to hear that.

When she stepped inside the classroom, Professor Renshaw was nowhere in sight. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she saw that it was nearly eight, the time that they usually met. Was he running late? Had something else come up at the last moment?

Unable to think of anywhere else he would be, she crossed the room to the door in the far corner that led to his personal office. She stopped to listen for a moment, to see if she could hear any movement on the other side, but the thick wooden door was pretty soundproof. Raising her hand up to the door, she was just about to knock when she heard his voice call out from the other side.

"Come in, Hermione," Renshaw called, "I'm just finishing up with lesson preparations for tomorrow."

Of course he would be able to hear her coming. There were still moments when she forgot that he was a vampire. It hadn't quite sunk in yet. Probably because he seemed so normal and in control most of the time.

Pushing open the door, she saw her professor sitting there at his desk with a big stack of papers on each side of him. As quietly as she could, she slipped into the room and sat down across from him at his desk, going over her plan once more as she waited for him to finish.

"You need something from me, don't you?" Professor Renshaw predicted, announcing that he was finished as he shut the book he was reading with a thud.

Hermione blinked at him. "How did you…"

"Well, you're biting your lip again, something that I've noticed you do when you're deep in thought, and I can sense a wave of uneasiness hanging over you."

Embarrassed at being caught, she dipped her head down to hide her red cheeks.

He only chuckled. "I can't promise that I'll do whatever it is you want, but you are free to ask."

She took a deep calming breath, letting the blood rush back down from her cheeks before pulling her head back up and squaring her shoulders.

"What do you know about the process of memory extraction?"

If her question surprised him, he failed to show it. Instead, he assumed a rather thoughtful expression, folding his arms on the desk in front of him. She couldn't help but notice that he too was biting his lip, being ever mindful of a couple of sharper teeth that could come out and shred his bottom lip if he wasn't careful. Having never seen him do this before, she could only assume that he was doing this to tease her.

She rolled her eyes. He certainly had an interesting way of showing his humor.

"I have performed the spell on myself a few times over the years. As I'm sure you can imagine, there are memories that become too… painful to recall at times," he explained. "Though, I would hardly consider myself an expert. Some of the other staff, such as Headmaster Dippet and Professor Dumbledore would surely know more about it than I do."

Yes, she had already figured that much.

"Why do you ask? Is there something you wish to forget?"

"Yes, I wish to forget the future."

This managed to spark a more prominent reaction from him. His brows furrowed as he fixed her with a strange look.

"The future? How can you forget the future when it has yet to come?"

She sighed. This was going to be harder to explain than she initially thought.

That's when an idea came to mind.

"Maybe it would be better if you were to read my mind. I fear this is something that has to be seen to fully understand."

A vampire's mind might be inaccessible, but her mind wasn't, and from what she had read, there was no reason why a wizard turned vampire shouldn't be able to perform legilimency. In fact, if anything, he should be able to perform it better than regular wizards, as his advanced senses would allow him to see everything more clearly.

He seemed uncertain at first, but agreed eventually, nodding as he pulled his wand from his robe and pointed it to her head.

"Legilimens!"

She felt a bitter cold sensation wash over, as he began to pull through the layers of her brain. The only way she could think of to compare it to was that of a brain freeze when you ate too much ice cream.

As he reached the last layer, Hermione focused her mind to show him what she wanted him to see. She started with a few memories from childhood with her parents at their home in Hampstead. Images of her parents taking her to the park across the road and pushing her on the swings entered her mind's eye, making her feel a bit homesick for those simpler times.

She fast forwarded a bunch, briefly pausing to show him the first and only time she had actually seen Voldemort in real life. It had taken place at the Department of Mysteries. She had only seen him at a distance, yet close enough to make a lasting impression. She didn't think that anyone would be able to forget a face like Voldemort's. Professor Renshaw doubtlessly recognized him as the same figure that her boggart had taken.

Finally she got to the end of her time in the 1990's. She showed him a brief snippet of Dumbledore's funeral, making sure that he could see the body as it was engulfed in flames. She showed the chaos that ensued in its wake; how the students had been placed under strict lockdown, and how miserable everyone had been, waiting for Voldemort to strike.

Then, at long last, she showed him the letter that Dumbledore had left for her and the process she had undergone to go back in time and fix his mess. She let him see the first few minutes of her arrival in 1938, smashing the time turner to pieces, before promptly clearing her mind, thus evicting Professor Renshaw from her mind.

His eyes were as wide as they could be, his posture stiff and statue-like and his jaw hanging loose. She had never seen her typically calm and collected professor look so… so… utterly shell shocked. Though, she couldn't exactly blame him for being so. It was a lot to take in, even for her.

"So… you want me to help you extract these memories?" he asked.

Honestly, she was surprised that he didn't bombard her with questions after all that she had shown him. Merlin knows that she would have. However, she supposed that from someone who had lived for centuries, such a reaction was to be expected. Perhaps this wasn't even the first time he had encountered a time traveler such as herself.

She shook her head. "No, not all of them, just a select few."

Nodding his head in understanding, he rose from his chair and began to pace back and forth around her.

"Extracting a few odd memories will not offer the relief that you want. You would have to remove all your old memories in order to do that, and even then, you wouldn't remember why you came here or what you're meant to be doing," he explained. "However, if you can gather all the memories that are troubling you, I can help you push them back into a far corner of your mind and lock them there. Your brain would still recognize them, but they wouldn't be as prominent."

That sounded perfect! She hadn't really liked the idea of extracting her memories, as she had heard that it could be a considerably painful process. If there was a better option, she would gladly take it. So long as the nightmares stopped.

She nodded her head. "I think I can do that."

Coming to stand directly in front of her, he raised his wand, pressing the tip to the side of her skull. "Tell me when you feel you are ready."

She picked out all the memories that were bothering her, including all of the times that they had talked down on Slytherins and Harry's constant rivalry with Draco Malfoy. She also included a few memories that she found too embarrassing to remember… such as the time she accidentally turned herself into a cat.

With all these memories together, she nodded her head to her Professor to give him the go ahead.

She saw his lips move, but she couldn't hear the incantation he was reciting. Whatever the spell was, it was certainly working. She could feel those memories being pulled from the forefront of her mind, slipping deeper and deeper until she could only vaguely recall that they were there. Then, all of a sudden, she felt a sudden jolt inside of her brain. It wasn't exactly painful, but it was enough to make her notice.

"It is done," he said, retracting his wand back into his robe.

Just to make sure it had worked, she tried to purposefully think of one of the many times Harry and Draco had fought. Nothing came to mind. Deep down she recognized that the memory existed, but nothing more.

A big grin stretched across her face as she looked up at her professor. "I think it worked!" she exclaimed. "Thank you so much, Professor."

Professor Renshaw gave her a slight grin of his own. "You are most welcome. I admit, it is nice to know that I'm not the only one who feels as though I am living in a time that is not my own."

She giggled. That was true. They had both come from different time periods, he had come from the past and she from the future. She supposed that it did feel nice to know that she wasn't the only one.

With that out of the way, they stayed and chatted for a while. For the first time since she had arrived, Hermione felt truly free, as she didn't have to hide anything from him. She could tell him stories of her true childhood and about her parents and grandparents, which seemed to fascinate him. He didn't know what dentists were, but then again most pureblood wizards didn't.

"Feel free to come to me if ever you should need those memories unlocked," he told her as she stood to leave.

"I will, and thank you again."

She definitely didn't regret choosing him over Dumbledore...


	21. Valentine's Day

Valentine's day had always come with mixed feelings for Hermione. A part of her had always felt as though it was a silly excuse for a holiday that pressured people into thinking that they had to have a girlfriend or boyfriend. She had strived to stay out of it most years, save for her original second year when she received her first and only real valentine from Gilderoy Lockhart.

Looking back on it, she couldn't help but shake her head at her own behavior. Honestly, what had she seen in that man? She must have been blinded by his perfect smile and styled golden locks. Though, she was reassured by the fact that she hadn't been the only one.

As you can imagine, she was shocked when the mail came to have a moderately sized stack of valentines dropped in front of her. At first, she thought that they belonged to Druella, who was sitting to her right with her own much larger pile, but they weren't. Upon closer inspection, she found that every single one had her name on it… All of them were hers...

For the first little while, Hermione could do nothing but sit there and stare at them. It wasn't until she heard Druella say her name that she snapped out of it.

"Is something wrong, Hermione?" Druella asked. "Aren't you going to open them?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I just wasn't expecting to receive so many."

Rosaline raised a brow at that. "What do you mean? Five Isn't that many, and this is only the first delivery. I'm sure there will be plenty more throughout the day."

"Just look at how many Tom's got!" Cygnus exclaimed. "Why, he's got even more than Abraxas."

Glancing over to her left, she saw that Cygnus wasn't lying. Tom had more valentines than any of them, and he seemed just as shocked about it as she was.

From the looks of it, half the female student body had sent him valentines. Were there really that many girls crushing on Tom? She hadn't noticed anything before, but then again she hadn't exactly been looking. Of course, she understood what they saw in him. He was handsome and highly intelligent, and she had to admit that he did have this dark and mysterious aura about him that made him all the more attractive.

Forcing herself to look away, she returned to her own stack. Hesitantly she reached forward to begin opening them.

_'Are you a snitch? Because you're by far the greatest catch here!"_

She rolled her eyes. Clearly this one had been sent by someone on the Quidditch Team, or at the very least someone who was a big fan of the sport. It couldn't be someone she knew too well. Anyone who took the time to get to know her knew that she didn't like Quidditch.

_'Are you sure you're not a dementor? I'm pretty sure I'd die if I kissed you.'_

That one was just plain creepy. She quickly determined that it had to be a prank valentine. Fred and George had sent out enough of those for her to know one when she saw it.

Then she found one that caught her interest.

_'Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight. For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.'_

Now, this one touched her. It was sweet and very fitting, considering her love of reading. Whoever had sent it had to know her pretty well, leaving her with only a few options as to who it might be, all of them being in her respective friend group.

Hagrid was out. There was no way he could have written something so neatly. That left Cygnus, Abraxas and Tom. She didn't think Cygnus cared that much about her, or Shakespeare for that matter. Knowing his family, they'd probably threaten to disown him if he dared read such a muggle book. Abraxas, on the other hand, was someone she knew to have read it, or at least his family owned a copy. Both Abraxas and Tom would have had access to it.

Truth be told, she was leaning more towards Abraxas. It just seemed like the kind of thing he would send. Honestly, she couldn't even imagine Tom sending valentines. It was just too sweet and mushy for him. Not to say that he couldn't be sweet in his own way.

The other two she didn't even dare to open. They were drenched in a sickly sweet scent and she was pretty sure one of them was a singing valentine. She didn't need the whole Great Hall hearing that.

"So, did you get any good ones?" Rosaline asked. "Come on, give us all the juicy details."

Hermione shook her head. "I only got one that I really liked. The others are absolute rubbish. One even thought it would be funny to compare me to a dementor."

Cygnus, who had been busy shoveling oatmeal into his mouth, snorted, spraying oatmeal everywhere as he burst out laughing.

Hermione glowered at him. At least she now knew who had sent it.

However, she wasn't glaring for long as there was a sudden explosion, engulfing Cygnus in a puff of smoke. When the smoke cleared, they saw that Cygnus' eyes had puffed up like pufferfish and swollen shut. Someone had cast a Conjunctivitis Curse on him.

"Hey, who turned the lights out!?"

It took Cygnus a little while to figure out exactly what was going on. It was only when he heard his friends begin to laugh that he had the sense to reach up and touch his eyes. He let out an alarmed scream and started flailing his arms about in a panic.

Swiveling in her seat, she turned towards Tom just in time to catch sight of him slipping his wand back into his robe. "Tom, why would you do that?" she asked in a hushed tone, not wanting to draw any more attention than what Cygnus was already attracting.

"He was being a prat," he mumbled back with a scowl. "He deserved what he got."

She had to admit that Cygnus did kind of have it coming. It was a nasty joke to play on someone. "Maybe so, but still… You can't just go around cursing people as you like, no less your _friends_."

Tom rolled his eyes. "I'd hardly call them friends… They're more like… useful accomplices."

"What? You mean to say that you're just using everyone?"

He shrugged. "Not everyone. I don't think of you that way."

"Thanks. That makes me feel so much better," she retorted

To say that she was appalled was an understatement. Just when she thought she was making progress with him, then he went and did this. She felt like screaming at the top of her lungs. Why did boys have to be so frustrating? They were just so stupid! Did they even have brains?

Hearing his brother's cries, Alphard came running over from farther down the table. "What's all the fuss about, Cygnus? Don't tell me it's just another-" he began to ask, but cut himself off as he saw his brother's eyes swollen shut. "What in Salazar Slytherin's name happened to you!?"

He glanced at all of us, but no one seemed willing to answer him. With a huff, he grabbed his brother by the arm and helped him to his feet, guiding him out of the hall with the promise of taking him to the medical wing.

Soon after, Hermione saw fit to cast Incendio on all her remaining valentines, save for the one that she actually liked, slipping it into her pocket for safe keeping. Then, she got to her feet and stalked after the brothers to make sure Cygnus would be okay.

It was barely eight in the morning and already she couldn't wait for the horrid holiday to be over…

* * *

She spent the rest of the day trying to ignore Tom, which wasn't easy because he kept trying to get her attention by scribbling notes to her on the parchment they had enchanted.

_"Forgive me,"_ he wrote.

She just rolled her eyes and continued to ignore him. She had often felt as though she forgave him too easily, making him think that she would just forgive him for everything he did, but that wasn't going to be the case this time.

_"Come on, Hermione. How can I make you forgive me?"_

_"I won't forgive you until you apologize to Cygnus or at least admit that what you did was wrong,"_ she wrote back.

He didn't reply back for quite some time. It wasn't until the end of class when she went to gather her stuff that she saw his reply.

_"But, I don't see anything wrong with what I did. It's not like I inflicted any lasting damage on him. His eyes should be back to normal soon enough. I simply put him back in his proper place."_

Proper place? What in Merlin's name did that mean?

_"Abraxas and Cygnus are not your slaves!"_ she quickly penned an answer.

Scooping up her things, she hurried out of class and to her next, hoping to put some distance between her and Tom for a bit. Unfortunately, she couldn't ditch him entirely as they had mostly all the same classes, but still, she wanted a bit of a reprieve in between.

The day went on and Hermione continued to ignore Tom. He finally took the hint two classes in and gave up. It should have given her relief, as that was what she had wanted, or at least what she thought she wanted, but it didn't for some reason.

To be completely honest, she didn't even know why she was mad at him. When she really thought about it, he hadn't done anything too horrible. The Conjunctivitis Curse was easily enough cured by use of the Oculus Potion. It wasn't nice, but it wasn't all that bad. No worse than some of the practical jokes that Fred and George would pull.

It wasn't until lunchtime when a fifth-year ravenclaw girl came up to Tom and handed him a handmade valentine, that she figured it out. She thought for sure that he would brush her off like he did most people who dared to bother him, but he took her by surprise and instead accepted the chocolates with a slight smirk, even going so far as to thank her.

The stabbing pain in her chest brought it all crashing down on her. She was mad at him because he was the one boy who hadn't sent her a valentine. Both Abraxas and Cygnus had, but he hadn't. She knew that it was quite silly to even hope for a valentine from him, but still it bothered her. The fact was undeniable, though she would have liked to deny it. Tom was the one person she would have liked to receive a valentine from.

The rest of the day dragged on at an increasingly slow pace for Hermione. Though she tried to squash the disappointment that had taken up residence inside of her, replacing her previous anger, she just couldn't seem to get rid of it.

She didn't say a word at dinner, as she did her best not to glance over at Tom, who had received even more valentines. She got a few more as well, but she barely noticed them. They didn't really matter to her. Stuffing them into her pockets with the one she had kept from earlier in the day, she excused herself from dinner early and headed down to the dungeons for a bit of alone time.

Fortunately, she got her wish for the first time that day as she found the dormitory empty when she arrived. She hurried off to her dorm and plopped herself down on her bed, burying her face in the covers.

Only a few more hours until she could go to bed and then the horrid holiday would be over. Good riddance, she thought grimly. Valentine's day might have just become her least favorite holiday in existence.

After a while, she reclaimed a bit of her senses and willed herself to stop feeling so sorry for herself. Her life didn't depend on her getting a valentine from Tom. He was just one boy… a boy that she didn't necessarily need in her life… even if she did want him…

In an effort to distract herself, she pulled the valentines she had received out of her pocket and finally took the time to read through them. To her relief, they weren't nearly as cheesy or inappropriate as the ones she had received at breakfast. This batch was much more basic and pleasant.

_'I think you are purr-fect just the way you are!'_

That one was sweet, she had to admit, and it made her feel a bit better about herself. It had obviously come from a fellow cat lover, which she appreciated.

_'Are you a book, because I'd like to check you out.'_

It was less sweet, but still quite fitting. She couldn't help but giggle at it a bit as the sender had drawn a picture of a book with arms and legs and a kissy face. This person at least had enough sense to know that she liked books.

And last but certainly not least, was a large, homemade card, covered in red and gold glitter. Written inside were the words;

_'Happee Valentine's Dae, Hermyowne!'_

A big grin spread across her face at the sight of it. Out of all the cards she had received that day, this was by far her favorite. She knew in an instant that it had come from Hagrid. The fact that there had been glitter stuck in his hair and all over his fingers throughout the day was only one of the contributing factors. That and the fact that he couldn't spell her name correctly.

Feeling slightly better about the holiday, she got up and arranged the cards neatly on her nightstand, with Hagrid's big flashy card displayed at the front of them all.

She supposed that she shouldn't be too disappointed by the turnout. It could have been worse. She could have gotten none at all. Besides, it was the thought that counted. It proved that there were people out there who liked her enough to take the time to send, or make in Hagrid's case, her a card.

"I wonder if anyone sent Hagrid a card?" she asked herself, glancing at the clock. There were a few hours left in the day, just enough to make a card for her giant friend and teleport it over to him. Not only would it be fun, but it would make the time go by more quickly.

She was just about to go off in search of the necessary supplies, when all of a sudden a flash of light appeared in front of her, bringing her to a sudden halt.

A single pure white rose appeared out of thin air. Reaching out, she took the rose in her fingers, careful to mind its thorns. Wrapped around the stem was a black ribbon, holding a small curled up piece of parchment.

"What the?"

Curious as to who could possibly have sent it, she pried the parchment out from the ribbon and unrolled it.

_'I do not regret what I did to Cygnus this morning, but I do not enjoy it when you are angry with me, and I do regret causing you to become so. Consider this flower as your valentine from me, for you deserve far better than some disgustingly corny card._

_P.S. I have enchanted the rose to ensure that it will never die or lose its beauty._

_~ Tom'_

Hermione stood there, staring back and forth between the rose itself and the note that had been attached, for quite a while. She didn't even notice that Druella and Rosaline had returned until she heard them squealing with delight, dropping their own valentines as they rushed over to see her special valentine.

"Who sent it?" Rosaline asked, as the two girls glanced over her shoulder.

"I knew it! I knew Tom would do something extra special for you!" Druella exclaimed.

Hermione eyed her friend in confusion.

"Did you really think that Tom wouldn't send you anything?" Rosaline asked teasingly.

"Well, I…"

Druella rolled her eyes at her. "Why do you think Tom cursed Cygnus the way he did? He was avenging you."

Avenging her? Was that what he was doing? Sure, it wasn't the nicest thing to say to a girl, but she wasn't mad at him for it. It was just a joke. Were people not allowed to joke around in this era, or was it just a pureblood thing? Either way, she didn't understand it.

"It's obvious that he likes you, Hermione," Druella insisted. "And it's clear to see that you like him too."

Hermione opened her mouth to object, but her two friends didn't give her the chance.

"Don't even try to deny the fact. I saw the way you were glaring at that Ravenclaw girl when she walked up to Tom!"

Hermione's face flushed bright red. It looked like they had caught her. There was no way to wiggle out of this.

Conjuring up a small glass vase, she slipped the rose into it and set it down next to Hagrid's valentine, and sat down on the bed. Druella and Rosaline soon joined her in sitting on either side of her.

"Are you sure he likes me?" she asked nervously.

"Of course we are. Everyone knows that you're the only girl he has eyes for. The only reason he paid attention to that Ravenclaw girl was to try to make you jealous."

She shook her head. Jealous? Really? That was just another attempt to get her to stop ignoring him? Oh, for Merlin's sake!

"Boys can be so stupid sometimes."

To that, they could all agree.

Either way, it didn't matter, as Hermione resolved that she had ignored him long enough. The flower had softened her heart, earning him the forgiveness he seemed to want from her. She supposed that she couldn't ask for much more from him. Like it or not, she didn't think he was going to ever regret cursing someone he thought deserving of it.

That was just the way he was. She might be able to change many things, but clearly not that.


	22. Surprises

The Kings Cross Train Station was, as always, filled to the brim with muggles. Another year had come and gone for Tom and Hermione, as they found themselves navigating the crowded train station for their fifth year. However, this particular time was different than the previous times.

Not only were the two of them sporting a pair of matching green prefect badges, which they wore with great honor, but they were accompanied by, not the Malfoy's, though they had initially arrived with them, but none other than Tom's muggle family.

Mary had written to tell them that she would be waiting at Kings Cross to see them off, but she had failed to mention that her husband and son would be joining them as well. You can only imagine their surprise to find the two older generations of Riddle men standing there.

"Why didn't you tell me that my father and grandfather were coming?" Tom whispered to her as they wheeled their trolleys of luggage through the station.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't know they were coming," she whispered back. "As far as I knew, it was just your grandmother."

Needless to say, she didn't know how it had happened, but judging from the particularly displeased expressions on their faces, she could only assume that they hadn't come of their own choice. If she didn't know better, she would say that Mary had dragged them by the ears. The thought was admittedly quite funny to imagine. Mrs. Riddle might have been small and fragile looking, but she was certainly a force to be reckoned with and Hermione admired that about her.

The Malfoy's had gone up ahead, not wanting to be seen with a family of muggles, and were just passing through the barrier as they approached. To Tom and Hermione, this was normal, for they had both seen it and done it numerous times before. However, for the Riddle's it was less than normal.

"My eyes must be giving out on me, because I could have sworn I just saw the Malfoy's walk straight through that wall," Mary claimed.

"If that's the case, then so are mine," said Thomas, as he removed his glasses, wiping them on the sleeve of his coat before replacing them on his head.

"Your eyes are fine, mum," Tom Sr. rolled his eyes. "It's just a magic trick, meant to keep _normal_ people like us out."

Hermione glanced over at the man in surprise. How had he known about that? Most muggles were absolutely clueless about it, and reacted in much the same manner as Thomas and Mary. Her own parents certainly had. Why wasn't Tom Sr. so shocked like his parents?

Tom went through first, to show his grandparents that it was perfectly safe and wasn't going to spit them out into outer space as Thomas seemed to be convinced. It was Mary who took the plunge and stepped forward through the wall. Hermione couldn't help but think that she would have been a Gryffindor. Her husband, not wanting to appear too cowardly, reluctantly followed after her.

That just left her with Tom Sr.

They just stood there for the first few moments, neither saying anything to the other, though Hermione did risk a glance at him every now and then. His gaze seemed to be fixated upon the wall, staring at it as if he was contemplating the mysteries hidden within.

"You seem remarkably calm for someone who prides himself in being _'normal'_ , as you put it," Hermione noted as she lined her trolley up with the wall.

Tom Sr. glared at her with an iciness similar to that of his son's.

"Merope often spoke of Hogwarts, or at least what she had heard of it," he explained, scowling no doubt at the memory of it. "I may have been under the effects of whatever it was she used to drug me, but I was still physically aware of all that was going on around me."

She nodded her head in understanding. It wasn't often that witches and wizards were open with their muggle partners about the magical world, as most preferred to keep it secret for as long as they could, but it made sense for someone like Merope, having just gained freedom from her father and brother, to be eager to share her hopes and dreams with Tom Sr.

"Look, I'm sorry for what you had to go through, Mr. Riddle. What she did to you was not right, but you're not the only victim here. Tom is angry at her too," she explained. "She could have saved her own life with magic, but she chose not to. She chose to abandon her own son. I don't know why, but she did nonetheless, and Tom was left to be raised by a woman who abused him as a result."

Tom Sr. didn't have anything to say to that. He just stood there and stared at her.

To be honest, it felt a bit strange to her. Here she was, standing in the middle of a crowded train station while her friends were waiting for her on the other side of the platform, scolding a grown man who was old enough to be her father.

Yet, at the same time, she knew that it needed to be done. Tom Sr. had told his side of the story, but he hadn't bothered to hear his son's side. He needed to know the truth; that his son hadn't always lived this wonderfully magical life, raised with the wealth and luxuries that the Malfoy's provided. He started off as a poor orphan boy who had become cold and paranoid as means of protecting himself.

She could have said much more to him, but with limited time before the train departed, she held back, turning her gaze away from him as she leaned forward and pushed her trolley through the barrier.

When she passed through to the other side, she found Tom standing there waiting for her with his grandparents, who were busy looking around at everything with wide-eyed wonder. She smiled at that. If they thought this was spectacular, just wait until they saw Diagon Alley. She made a mental note to inquire about inviting them along next time.

"Is everything alright?" Tom asked. "I was starting to think my father had held you back to strangle you for being a witch or something."

As fate would have it, Tom Sr. chose that exact moment to step through the barrier. Hermione knew at once that he had heard his son's words, as his gaze fixated on him, giving him something of a dirty look.

"Relax boy, I'm not about to hurt your girlfriend," he said as he moved past them to join his parents.

Tom opened his mouth to object to his statement, but must have changed his mind as he shook his head and shut his mouth.

Hermione raised a brow at this. He wasn't denying it as he usually did. What did that mean? Could it be that he was considering asking her to be his girlfriend and making the claims true?

As much as she loathed the idea of sitting back and waiting for a boy to take the first step, Druella and Rosaline had insisted that it was the proper way to go about it. There were times when she enjoyed living in a time where people actually had manners and conducted themselves by a set of firmly placed rules, but then there were times when she just wanted to be done with it and prove to everyone that girls were just as capable of taking the initiative as boys.

Still, she chose to listen to her friends for the time being and give Tom the chance to ask her when he was ready. She only hoped it wouldn't take him too much longer.

"Fifteen more minutes until departure!" someone called out.

With that, they moved along, steering the trolleys over towards the baggage car to load their belongings. It was strange to think that they had started with only one small suitcase each and now they found themselves with a trolley each carrying a trunk with each of their initials engraved into the side, a much larger suitcase, and a crate to hold their respective pets.

While Tom reached into his crate to let his snake slither up his arm, Hermione opened hers and gently reaching in, pulled out a small black kneazle kitten. The kitten yawned and did a stretch before promptly cuddling into her arms.

"I still don't understand why you bought that fluffy monstrosity," Tom remarked, eyeing the cat warily as he slipped his pet snake into his pocket.

Hermione just rolled her eyes as she cuddled her cat, pressing a kiss to the top of it's head. "He has a name, you know. It's Grimalkin. And he's not a fluffy monstrosity."

She would never understand why people thought that kneazles were ugly. They were beautiful creatures, at least in her eyes, not to mention that they were also magical and highly intelligent.

At first, she hadn't intended to buy another cat, as she felt bad about the idea of replacing her dear old Crookshanks, but they happened to be walking past the Magical Menagerie when she spotted a litter of kneazle kittens in the window. It was a fairly large litter with eight kittens in total, but the one that stood out to her the most was one that was smaller than the rest, and seemed to be left out, watching from the corner of the cage as his brothers and sisters wrestled.

One look was all it took to change her mind. She was in that shop before the others could even notice she was gone.

"You're just jealous because I give him more hugs than you."

"As if," Tom scoffed, though the hint of pink on his pale cheeks kind of gave him away.

With their luggage all loaded onto the train, they turned back to say their farewells to Tom's family. Thomas wasn't actually paying attention, as he seemed to be admiring the exterior of the train, and Tom Sr. was glancing nervously around at all the young witches and wizards that passed by.

Mary on the other hand gave them her full unwavering attention, as she proceeded to fuss over them, tugging any piece of clothing that was even the slightest bit lopsided, straight, and smoothing out any and all strands of hair on Tom's head that she thought looked untidy.

Tom hated it, and tried to squirm out of her grasp, while Hermione giggled, not feeling the slightest bit sorry for him. This was just something he was going to have to get used to. Mary had waited a long time for a grandchild to dote upon and now that she had one, she wasn't about to go easy on him.

"Now, be a good boy and we'll see you at Christmas," she said as she pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

"Christmas?"

She nodded. "Yes, you're both invited to come and spend Christmas with us at Riddle Manor."

"They are?" Both her husband and son turned to look at her.

"We are?" Tom and Hermione exchanged glances.

Mary cast a quick glare at the two older Riddle men before turning back to the children with a smile. "Of course you are. We have plenty of room for you and it will give us a chance to get to know one another better."

Hearing the train whistle, signaling the last call for students to get aboard, they waved goodbye and hurried off towards their compartment.

All of their friends were already inside waiting for them when they got there. Like them, Abraxas was also already dressed in his uniform as was Cygnus, but the other girls weren't. As usual, they preferred to stay in their normal clothes, showing them off to all who passed by, for as long as they could.

"Was that your family I saw you arrive with?" Cygnus asked Tom. "Muggles, aren't they?"

Tom nodded his head, but refrained from speaking as he settled into his seat between him and Abraxas.

Hermione wasn't sure if he was appalled because he had insulted his family, as calling them muggles was in fact an insult when it came to the Black's, or if he was ashamed of the fact.

"Muggles or not, you certainly get your good looks from your father," Rosaline commented. "I was shocked by how similar the two of you look."

Again, Tom made no reply.

The train pulled out of the station, and for once in his life, Tom actually had a family to wave back to, even if he wasn't the most enthused about it. Fortunately, the topic of Tom's muggle family was dropped soon after, as everyone began to talk about how their summer vacations had gone.

Everyone but Cygnus and Druella…

Hermione couldn't help but notice that they didn't quite seem like themselves. Usually, Cygnus would be cracking jokes or at the very least complaining about his mother and sister, and Druella was usually eager to tell them about the newest fashions in Paris. All they did was sit there and stare at their feet, save for a few times when they lifted their heads to glare at each other.

"Is something wrong, Druella? Did you not have a good summer?" Hermione asked, turning to her fair-haired friend.

"Yeah, and what about you, Cygnus?" Abraxas asked. "You've been awfully quiet over there."

Neither of them spoke at first, as they seemed to be having a heated staring contest between the two of them, but finally Cygnus let out a sigh and broke away to look at them.

"Our parents decided to arrange a marriage between Druella and I over the summer," he explained. "As you know, our fathers are old friends, and they thought it would be a good idea to further join the two families."

An arranged marriage? Of course, Hermione had known that such marriages were common with purebloods, but still... She hadn't stopped to consider the fact that it could and probably would happen to a majority of her friends.

"Have they set a date for the wedding?" asked Rosaine.

Druella nodded her head. "The end of the school year."

"What!? But we're only in fifth year! You'll be married for at least two full years before you even graduate!"

"That's just the way it works in our society," Cygnus shrugged as if it didn't bother him in the slightest. "The sooner you're married off the better."

Hermione was absolutely horrified by this. Did pureblood parents really care that little about the happiness of their children that they would force them to get married, to someone they didn't love nonetheless, before they could even finish school? It was totally barbaric!

Seeing that Druella looked as though she was on the verge of tears, Hermione handed Grimalkin over to Rosaline and pulled Druella into a hug. The poor girl was soon crying her eyes out on her shoulder, drenching her sweater in tears.

Cygnus had the nerve to roll his eyes. "Oh come on, you make it seem like a death sentence. I'm not _that_ bad!"

That, of course, didn't make Druella feel any better.

The train ride passed in silence for the most part after that, as no one seemed to know what to say. About two hours in, Rosaline and Druella went off to change, and Hermione decided to tag along for moral support. Something told her that Druella needed some time away from the boys.

"Perhaps you could convince your father to change his mind if you just talked to him and told him how you feel," Hermione suggested.

Druella shook her head, her long golden curls hitting both of the other girls in the face as she did so. "I have already tried, and it did not end well. He says that it is my duty as his daughter to marry and ensure the purity of our bloodline."

Hermione honestly didn't know how to comfort her friend, aside from hugs, which she was always more than willing to give.

"I can only hope that I'll learn to love him," she said, wiping the tears from her eyes, careful not to smudge her mascara. "And if not, I suppose I shall have an unhappy life to look forward to."

It then dawned on Hermione where exactly Druella and Cygnus would fit into the Black Family Tree as she knew it. If Walburga and Orion were Sirius and Regulus' parents, then that would mean... Druella and Cygnus were the parents of Bellatrix, Andromeda and Narcissa!

A chill ran through her whole body. She had unknowingly made friends with the parents of Bellatrix Black. The image of her mugshot from Azkaban on the cover of the Daily Prophet came back to mind. While she had never actually encountered the woman personally, she had heard nasty things… and that face… that was certainly the face of a madwoman.

In the end, she shook the image from her head. It wasn't right for her to think less of Druella just because she knew her future daughter would be a crazed death eater, hell-bent on killing all muggles and muggleborns. Besides, there was no reason why Bellatrix should turn out that way this time around. No Voldemort meant no death eaters.

Just like Druella said, they could only hope for the best.


	23. Plans for the Future

World War II seemed to be getting worse rather than better and the same could be said of the Wizarding War. Gellert Grindelwald and his Acolytes were growing stronger and more violent. Gellert Grindelwald’s face seemed to be on every copy of the Daily Prophet, as there were constant reports on his activity and the atrocities committed by his Acolytes. The dreaded black letters were streaming in by the dozen, causing sorrow to all who received them as they learned of their loved ones murder.

A somber mood had fallen over Hogwarts, and Hermione felt as though she was back where she had initially started. Though, she had to admit it wasn’t as bad as in 1997. Classes were still ongoing and no one was confined to their dorms. Probably because, unlike Voldemort, Grindelwald wasn’t directly targeting Hogwarts.

They were safe… and even more so in hers and Tom’s case, as they lived with at least one of Grindelwald’s supporters…

There had been a few times in which Mr. Malfoy had rushed out of the house on the excuse that he had been called away on urgent business, not returning until late at night. She didn’t know where he stood within the ranks, but she was certain that his urgent business somehow involved Grindelwald. For all she knew, he could be one of the ones killing all those muggles.

The thought of living with such a man made her positively ill at ease.

Still, she didn’t have definite proof of that, so she did her best to stay out of his way and appear oblivious.

Just like in her original fifth year, the teachers were starting to pile an increasing amount of homework on the students. Headmaster Dippet had already announced that all fifth year students would be taking their O.W.L.s sometime in June. He didn’t give a specific date, but she presumed he did so purposefully in hopes of motivating them to be ready.

“Today we will be making a Draught of Peace, but first I want to discuss the future,” Slughorn began his lesson.

A Hufflepuff boy in the back of the classroom raised his hand. “But sir, isn’t that what Divination is for?”

Slughorn let out a jolly chuckle as he shook his head. “Not necessarily, Mr. Manson. I am referring to each and everyone of yours futures. With the upcoming O.W.L.s, it is vital for you to consider what you want to be in the future, and which subjects you need to pass in order to qualify.”

As Slughorn went into a long winded discussion, bragging about all the famous witches and wizards he had taught over the years, Hermione couldn’t help but contemplate the matter.

What _did_ she want to be in the future? She had always wanted to make a difference in the world, but she was technically already doing that. Sadly, she didn’t get paid for traveling back in time to save the world, which meant that she would have to find an alternate way to support herself. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy's generosity would only last so long. She was pretty sure they would kick her out as soon as she graduated, or once they found out that she had no intention of joining Grindelwald.

The world was literally at her fingertips, for she knew that she could probably do anything if she set her mind to it. Joining the ministry was an option. Merlin knew the entire system needed a major overhaul. Though she wasn’t entirely sure if she wanted to be the one to clean up that mess. It sounded like a headache and a half.

She could come back to Hogwarts and become a teacher, following in her grandfather’s footsteps. Perhaps she could convince Headmaster Dippet to hire her as a replacement for Professor Binns. That would be a tremendous favor to all students, as she was sure that she could make the class more exciting.

“Now, I want the rest of you to discuss this amongst yourself while I go and fetch a last minute ingredient I forgot for our lesson.”

No sooner had Slughorn left the room, then the entire classroom erupted with chatter, though not all were discussing what he had asked them to. Rolling her eyes at them, she turned to her group of friends, who were all sitting within a somewhat close proximity. Cygnus, who had purposefully chosen to sit in the back of the classroom to avoid Druella, had to switch desks with Bobby Thorne to join in the discussion.

“Well, I already know what I’m going to do after Hogwarts,” Abraxas claimed. “I’ll be taking over the family estate, as well as all our investments and our winery in Paris. Of course, I won’t be officially in charge until my father passes, but that shouldn’t take too long.”

There was something about the way he said that last bit that made her uneasy. Did he know something that she didn’t? Was Mr. Malfoy sick or something? Or maybe he was plotting something sinister against his father? Sure, the two of them weren’t the closest, and Mr. Malfoy rarely ever seemed to pay any attention to him, but did he really hate his father enough to want to kill him?

“I suppose I’ll be forced to follow in my father’s footsteps and join the ministry. Alphard’s already made it quite clear that he has no intention of doing so, meaning that the burden falls to me,” Cygnus said with a sigh.

Alphard had graduated at the end of the last school year, but he had been one of the rare few members of the Black Family that she actually was quite fond of. He was serious, focusing more on his education rather than having fun like Cygnus, but not as much so as his sister. Yet, he always took time out of his busy schedule to help a fellow Slytherin in need. He kept his distance from muggleborns, as he was expected to, but she could tell that he was still a good person.

“I’ve always dreamed of living the sophisticated life of a French wizard’s wife. I could attend all the best parties and buy all the newest fashions before the rest of the world even got access to them!” Rosaline squealed with delight.

Rosaline didn’t say anything, she just turned to look at Cygnus, who refused to meet her gaze.

“What about you, Tom?” Abraxas asked.

Tom smirked. “I’m not going to reveal my plans just yet, but I think it’s safe to say that you can expect great things from me.”

What did he mean by that? What was he planning? Did she even want to know? She had to admit, it captured her curiosity. There was no reason to believe that his plan would be the same as before, so he could literally be planning anything. Maybe he was going to join the ministry with the intention of becoming Minister for Magic. It sounded like something he might do. He still valued power above all.

“And you, Hermione?”

“I think I might like to take a bit of time off after I graduate and travel for a while,” she said. “I’m not entirely sure what I want to do yet, but I could definitely see myself coming back to Hogwarts.”

They all seemed rather taken back by her statement.

“Is there something wrong with that?”

Druella shook her head. “No, not really. It’s just… You have that choice… Most of us don’t get to choose our futures. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I envy you and your freedom.”

Her heart grew heavy at her friend's words. Before she came to Hogwarts in the 1940s and joined the house of Slytherin, she had always viewed Purebloods, or at least most of them, as these snooty rich people who had and could do whatever they wanted… but that wasn’t entirely true… The children of pureblood families were little more than puppets in their parents' eyes, to be used for their own selfish purposes and married off without their child’s approval.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. She never realized just how lucky she was in that regard.

Slughorn returned soon after, and everyone had to return to their proper desks. Gathering up all the necessary ingredients they got to work on brewing the potion. It was a difficult potion to make, requiring close attention to detail and strict following of instructions. If there was one thing she had managed to learn from Professor Snape it was that Potion Making was a precise art. If you put too little or too much of even a single ingredient, it could ruin the whole potion.

She could almost hear Snape’s voice lecturing her from memory as she added all the different ingredients, making sure to stir and wait for the right colors in-between. In her wildest dreams, she never thought that she’d actually be grateful to Professor Snape, but there she was. She had always been decent in potions but being able to recite Snape’s instructions clearly in her head made it easier.

Unfortunately, most of the class didn’t seem to be doing so well. Cygnus, who was probably by far the worst in potions out of their year, must have added something wrong, as it had turned bright pink at the end rather than the turquoise color that it was meant to be. Tom and Abraxas seemed to be doing just as well as her, but the others were a bit behind.

Coming over to inspect their work, Slughorn nodded with approval to Tom and Abraxas, giving them each a pat on the shoulder. However,

“Merlin’s Beard, Miss Granger!” he exclaimed. “You’ve brewed the draught perfectly! It’s not too blue and not too green, not too thick but also not too thin.”

Hermione smiled. She tried not to let it get to her head too much, but she had always loved receiving praise from teachers. That was admittedly the main reason she had never liked potions as much.

“Have you considered a future as a potioneer?” he asked. “If so, I could easily arrange a meeting for you with some of my famous potioneer friends.”

She could honestly say that she had never considered a career in potions, yet the idea seemed oddly appealing to her at that moment. There were certain potions that she knew about that hadn’t been invented yet that could benefit lives if it was only invented sooner, such as the Wolfsbane Potion. And who knows what other types of potions she might be able to come up with. Perhaps she might even invent a potion to help her grandfather.

“I may be interested,” she admitted. “I do like a good challenge.”

“Wonderful! You shall have to join the Slug Club for our next dinner party then. Mr. Riddle and Mr. Malfoy, you’re welcome to come as well,” Slughorn insisted. “I’ll see if I can pull some strings for you all.”

She stifled a bit of a giggle as he went on his way, practically beaming with joy. You could definitely tell that he enjoyed arranging such meetings. Who was she to rain on his parade?

Eventually everyone managed to finish their potions, and class was dismissed. Gathering up her things, she got up and headed to the door, waiting there for the rest of her friends. When they were all ready, they took off down the corridor together.

However, they didn’t get too far before Tom stopped abruptly in his steps.

“Is something wrong?” Hermione asked. “Did you forget something?”

Tom shook his head, motioning for the others to go on ahead without them.

Cygnus and Abraxas seemed clueless as to what he was doing, but Rosaline and Druella immediately started giggling amongst themselves, winking back at Hermione as they went.

Hermione furrowed a brow. What on earth was that about?

Taking hold of her hand, Tom led her over to a dark alcove, away from the crowd of students coming and going from class.

“Are you really going to Slughorn’s dinner party?” he asked.

She nodded her head, not quite sure where he was going with this. Hadn’t he heard her tell Slughorn that she was interested in his offer, indicating that she would be going to his party, and most likely joining his Slug Club.

“I was wondering if… that is, if you might be willing to go with me as my date?”

Hermione was gob-smacked. A part of her felt like screaming out in delight, yet the other part of her could hardly believe her ears. He had just asked her out on a date! Tom Marvolo Riddle, the only boy who had ever taken her full fancy, wanted to date her! She felt so happy she felt as though it had to be a dream. She pinched herself just to make sure she wasn’t. Sure enough, she felt it. It was real.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she said with a big grin. “Yes, Tom, I would love to be your date.”

It seemed to take him a few moments to process that she had actually said yes, before a grin of his own spread across his face.

“Good. I won’t have to turn Abraxas into a rat again then.”

“Tom!” she slapped him across the arm. “You’re horrible!”

He just laughed. “I’m pretty sure you’ve known that for years, Hermione, and yet you still remain by my side despite everything.”

She felt her cheeks heat up. He did have a point there. She had always known that he was capable of terrible things, but she hadn’t let it cloud her judgment. He was capable of good things too. If he wanted to, that was.

“Well, just be careful. I might change my mind if you become too horrible.”

“I’ll do my best, but to be honest, I’m not too worried,” he said with a smirk. “I have a feeling you’ll always be there to straighten me out, should you feel that I need it.”

She rolled her eyes, but deep down she knew he was right, and in a way, it was gratifying to know that he trusted her that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter is up! Also, I should tell you that if you go back and read through chapter two, you will find an illustration there (another one coming soon for chapter four!) done by the lovely and talented Gildedshivers!


	24. The Slug Club

Tom was waiting for her just outside the entrance to the girls dorm at seven sharp, looking most handsome indeed in a sharp black tuxedo consisting of a white starched dress shirt, double breasted black dinner jacket with matching trousers and a white bow tie. Anyone who didn't know he was a half-blood would surely never guess, for he looked like the epitome of a proper pureblood gentleman.

"Hermione, you look beautiful…"

His eyes followed her as she stepped through the passage into the common room. With a bit of guidance from Druella and Rosaline, she had chosen a relatively modest, yet still pretty, rose colored dress that fell slightly past the knees with short puffed sleeves and a cinched waist, paired with seamed stockings, white wrist-length gloves and a pair of pink peep toe heels.

"Thank you, Tom." she remarked, unable to contain the smirk that tugged her lips. "I must say, you do look quite dapper in a suit."

Dapper… It was one of those words that she would have never even dreamed of using before, but now found came quite naturally to her. She supposed that it came with her surroundings.

He returned her smirk with one of his own. "In that case, I'll have to wear them more often."

Walking up to him, she reached up and straightened his tie for him, noticing that it was slightly off. She had always liked men in suits. Though, not all men could pull it off. For starters, it had to actually fit the man wearing it, and not be covered in frills. Tom was definitely one of the men who pulled it off nicely, not only in fit, as it had been custom tailored specifically for him, but it fit his whole aesthetic as well. The black suit only added to the dark and mysterious aura.

"Are we ready to go?" she asked, glancing around. "Where's Abraxas?"

"He went on ahead with his date," Tom informed her

Abraxas had a date as well? This was news to her. Not that she was upset about it at all. On the contrary, she was happy for him. She only hoped that he wasn't as hopelessly clumsy around this girl as he had been around her.

"Do I know her?"

"I don't believe so." he shook his head. "He went with a fourth year in our house by the name of Hera Carrow."

She didn't know this Hera Carrow, but she had known of a pair of twin girls named Flora and Hestia Carrow back in her original time. Perhaps they were related to Hera somehow? Either way, it didn't matter. She was sure to meet the girl at the Slug Club.

"Shall we go then?" Tom offered his arm to her.

With a nod, she took hold of his arm and together they started out of the common room and down the dimly lit corridor.

It amazed her just how comfortable she felt with Tom. Unlike her two previous dates, if they could even be considered as such, she didn't feel the slightest bit nervous. What was there to be nervous about? It was just Tom. She felt like she had known him her whole life, even if she knew that wasn't quite true. They were friends… equals… and now, perhaps they could become more…

Initially she had felt anger towards Dumbledore for sending her into the past and away from everything she had known, and though she would probably never trust him entirely again for all that he had done, she had made peace with the fact. She felt as though she belonged here… as if she had always belonged here.

The party had already started by the time they arrived, despite the fact that they hadn't arrived that late. Most of the guests were already seated at the table, though a few were standing over in the far corner with Slughorn and a group of men whom she could only assume were some of his famous friends. Most of them were standing with their backs to her, preventing her from determining if she recognized any of them.

However, she was surprised by just how many of the other guests she actually knew. Along with Abraxas and his date, who was a very pretty and petite girl who seemed quite taken by Abraxas, there was also Pollux Parkinson, Pansy's grandfather and a sixth year from their house, Betty Bones of Hufflepuff, Eugene Crouch of Ravenclaw, and finally Minerva McGonagall and Fleamont Potter of Gryffindor.

How Fleamont had managed to get an invite was beyond her, and from the looks of it, he seemed just as shocked to see her and Tom.

"Mr. Riddle and Miss Granger!" Spotting them from across the room, Slughorn motioned them over to him. "I'm so glad you could make it!"

"Thank you for having us, Professor," Tom greeted their plump potions master with a charming smile. "It looks like you have a grand evening in store for us."

Tom could be one of the most polite and charming young men she had ever known when he wanted to be. The fact that he was putting so much effort into being this nice to Slughorn indicated that there was a reason behind it. He wanted something from him. The only question was what?

"Do I ever, m'boy," Slughorn grinned from ear to ear. Turning back to his group, me waved a hand to the two teens in introduction. "Everyone, this is Miss Hermione Granger and Mr. Tom Riddle, our two best students here at Hogwarts."

One by one the gentlemen turned to face them. Most of them immediately turned their full attention towards Tom, making Hermione feel rather left out and frankly a bit annoyed as well. She wasn't ignorant to what was going on, for it was one of the things that unfortunately never seemed to change no matter what time she was in. These men were ignoring her and her potential for greatness just because she was a woman.

With a huff, she took a step back. A part of her was tempted to show them then and there just how powerful a woman could be, when she heard a frail voice address her.

Breaking away from the rest of the group, an old man with long white hair, sparkly blue eyes and dressed in a neat, be it outdated robe. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Granger," he greeted her, holding out a wrinkled grey hand for her to shake. "Forgive me, I'm sure you must be wondering who I am. My name is-"

"Nicholas Flamel!" Hermione exclaimed.

She couldn't believe her eyes. Nicholas Flamel was standing right in front of her… as in _the_ Nicholas Flamel who created the Philosopher's Stone and with it the Elixir of Life! Was she dreaming? Surely she had to be, because this seemed much too good to be true.

"You know who I am?" Flamel seemed quite surprised by the fact that she knew who he was.

"Of course I know who you are. You're only the greatest alchemist and potioneer in the world." she told him. "I read all about you and your accomplishments in first year. To think that I'm actually meeting you in person… It's an honor!"

He gave her a kind smile. "Oh, I don't know about all that, but it pleases me to know that I am not entirely forgotten by the youth of this age.

"Horace tells me that you are unusually proficient in potions and are interested in pursuing a career in such. Tell me, child, what are your hopes for the future."

And so, it was with great pleasure that she began to tell him all about her hopes and dreams for the world, and all the ways she hoped to improve it. Flamel just nodded his head and let her speak for the most part, but there were a couple of times in which he spoke up to agree with something she had said.

There was so much more that she wanted to tell him. She longed to tell him about how her and her old friends had risked their lives to protect the Philosopher's Stone from the clutches of a dark wizard, or how she had managed to successfully, at least for the most part, brew a Polyjuice Potion in her second year. Alas, she knew that she couldn't tell him those things. Besides, this was hardly the time or the place.

"You have some very promising ideas, Miss Granger," he complimented. "I look forward to seeing where you go with them, and I only hope that I can bear witness to their results."

Everyone was called to the dinner table shortly after, bringing an end to their captivating discussion.

Returning to her side, Tom courteously pulled the chair out for her, waiting for her to take her seat before taking his own to her left. She smiled over at him appreciatively. Her previous annoyance with all the men flocking to him had been completely forgotten about.

Unfortunately, a new annoyance arose as she found Fleamont sitting to her right. The two boys on either side of her glared at each other. It was undeniable that there was bad blood between the two of them, ever since their first year when Fleamont had tripped her in the hall and Tom had set his pet snake on him as revenge. Of course, Fleamont didn't remember this. As far as he knew, it had been nothing more than a prank.

"Dinner is served!"

With the clap of Slughorn's hands, a delicious array of foods appeared on the table before them. It wasn't quite as spectacular or large scale as the Hogwarts Feasts, but it was still impressive nonetheless.

The table roared to life as the guests once more broke off into conversation, somehow still finding time to eat as well. Hermione spent the first portion of the meal in silence, not the slightest bit interested in the discussion about the latest victories in the world of Professional Quidditch. Tom didn't seem too into it either, but still answered with his own honest opinion when asked about his views on the sport.

One by one, Slughorn addressed each and every one of his young guests, asking them about their lives and any remotely important relations they might have.

Apparently Fleamont's father had once been a part of the Wizengamot, but had left after much backlash from the purebloods for his decision to support the muggles back in World War I. As much as she thought that Fleamont was a right git, it was still fascinating to hear more about Harry's family.

Of course, everyone there knew Abraxas' family. Mr. Darius Malfoy was one of the most prominent wizards in Wizarding Britain. He had great influence within the ministry as well as within the school, being a close friend of Headmaster Armando Dippet.

"What about your family, Miss Granger?" Slughorn asked. "I've heard rumors that our very own Professor Renshaw is your uncle. How is he? We don't see much of him outside of his classroom."

That much was true. He very rarely joined the rest of the staff in the Great Hall, as he preferred to dine alone for obvious reasons.

"My uncle is just fine sir. I only found out that he was my uncle a couple of years ago, as my mother never told me about him, but I've been enjoying getting to know him as well as more about myself."

The rest of the mean went more or less the same, as Slughorn sought to question the students gathered, silently picking out which ones he wished to make permanent members of his Slug Club, and which didn't meet his criteria.

After dinner was finished, followed by a desert course, as usual, the table was banished, the lights lowered, and music began to play. Everyone who had come with a date or could find an eligible partner, stepped up to dance, while the older men went over to the bar for drinks.

"May I have this dance?" Tom asked.

She smiled and nodded, taking his hand in hers. "You may."

Placing one hand in hers, the other gently on her back, he began to lead her around the dance floor in a series of graceful flowing movements. Hermione had never been a terrible dancer, as she had managed to get through the Yule Ball in her original fourth year without embarrassing herself, but she had greatly improved since then, all thanks to the ballroom dance lessons that Mrs. Malfoy had insisted she and Tom take.

The only bad part of the dance was when Slughorn decided to spice things up a bit and announced a partner change. Each boy had to change partners with the boy to his left. Tom ended up switching with Abraxas, dancing with Hera Carrow, while Fleamont took his place with her.

Neither of them were too happy with the arrangement. In fact, Tom didn't seem to be paying any attention to Hera at all, as he kept glancing back at her and Fleamont. Honestly, he looked as though he was ready to march over and strangle the messy-haired boy where he stood.

"You look… nice," Fleamont said.

"Er, thanks."

She couldn't tell if he was actually genuinely complimenting her, or if he was just saying that because he felt obligated to. Had it been Harry, she would have known that it was genuine, but not Fleamont. She couldn't make heads or tails out of what went on in his brain. If he even had one, that was...

"I've seen you with Charlus from time to time," he commented. "How is he doing?"

What? Was he actually asking how his little brother was doing, after the way he had treated him? If it wasn't for the fact that they were in a crowded room, with a teacher keeping an eye on them, she wouldn't have hesitated to punch him straight in the nose. However, as it were, she didn't want to cause a scene, so she forced her anger back.

"Charlus is doing fine. He's managed to make a good group of friends who don't treat him like he's carrying some sort of horrible plague."

He narrowed his eyes at her only before softening. "Look, I know I haven't been the greatest to you, and you probably think I'm a horrible person, but I have no choice but to keep up appearances," he defended himself. "Gryffindors and Slytherins are enemies. It's always been that way, and I don't know about your house, but in Gryffindor, anyone who tries to make friends with a Slytherin is practically an outcast."

She knew that he was probably referring to Hagrid, who had made no attempt to hide the fact that he was friends with her. He even considered Tom a friend, even though she was pretty sure Tom didn't consider him as such.

"You don't know what it's like to feel like an outcast. To have everyone making fun of you simply because of your name… It's better to just go along with the rest of the crowd."

Hermione didn't know what to say. It was clear that he had been referring to himself and not Hagrid, at least not entirely anyway. The Gryffindor boys had bullied him about his name? She would admit that Fleamont wasn't the most pleasant name to have, but she didn't think it was that bad.

"You're wrong. I do know how it feels to be an outcast," she corrected him. "I spent the first ten or so years of my life thinking that I was a freak because I could do things that no one else could."

His eyes widened slightly. He surely hadn't expected that.

"Going along with the rest of the crowd does not make it go away. It just makes you exactly like those who bullied you. Who matters more to you? A group of boys who claim to be your friends, or your own flesh and blood brother? If you're not careful, you might lose your brother completely one day."

The dance ended soon after, much to her relief, and Fleamont managed to scrape together a bow before turning and leaving in a hurry.

Tom ditched his partner just as quickly to return to her.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "Potter didn't try anything on you, did he?"

She shook her head. Surprisingly enough, he hadn't tried anything funny with her, as he had been known to do in the past. In fact, it sounded as though he just wanted to know how his brother was doing. If anything had been hurt, it was his pride, as she called him out for being a right git.

A few of the guests started to leave after that, but Slughorn called those who were still remaining over to the fireplace for a photo, a tradition of his that he did with all of his favorite students. With Slughorn in the middle, he assembled the group of six around him, with Tom, Eugene and herself on one side, and Abraxas, Minerva and Fleamont on the other.

Tom stood next to Hermione, noticeably closer than everyone else, and discreetly wrapped his arm around her waist while no one else was looking, as if silently claiming her as his own for the photo. She had gotten used to it over time, but she still didn't particularly like the fact that public displays of affection were frowned upon.

With a wave of Slughorn's wand, the camera flash went off and the picture was taken, capturing the official Slug Club members of 1942. This photo would be the first piece of physical proof that she was actually there in that time.

She smiled at the thought. There was nowhere else she would rather be.


	25. A Black Wedding

Hermione had heard about the Black Family and how strict they were with their traditions, mostly from Sirius who had told them stories of his childhood, but she had always thought that his outlandish stories were exaggerated or even made up. Surely they couldn't be as bad as he said.

She could now honestly say that Sirius hadn't exaggerated even a single detail of those stories…

When Druella had first approached her about being her bridesmaid, she had been picturing a relatively average wedding, but what she found herself a part of was far from the kind of weddings that she was used to.

For starters, the wedding was being held in the Black Family Graveyard, hardly a romantic place to get married, even if the couple didn't exactly love each other, but Druella claimed that it had something with the spirits of their pureblood ancestors. Whatever that meant.

The decorations consisted mostly of candles, both lining the ground and in mid air. Normally she found that floating candles had a magical effect, but here they just seemed downright creepy, as they illuminated all the headstones scattered about. Almost all of them had the house motto etched into the bottom, just below their names. 'Toujours Pur', which was French for 'Always Pure'.

And then there were the dresses. Rather than the puffy pure white dress that most brides wore, Druella was squeezed into a skin tight dress that was as black as night, while the bridesmaids, consisting of Rosaline, Hera and herself, were made to wear similar dresses in Slytherin Green. She honestly didn't know how they were all going to make it through the wedding without fainting on account of being unable to breath.

She couldn't help but feel sorry for her friend. A woman's wedding was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, but it seemed to have the opposite effect for Druella. It wasn't hard to see that her friend was unhappy. This was hardly the day she had hoped for. The only thing she got to pick for herself were her bridesmaids.

As mother of the groom, the job of planning everything fell to Mrs. Irma Black. With the voice of a drill sergeant, she barked out order after order and no one dared to object. Hermione had already learned that the hard way when she tried to suggest that it might be nice to get the bride's opinion on the flower arrangements. That earned her a swift slap to the face.

She was so shocked by it that she couldn't move for the first few minutes. It was only after Mrs. Black was gone that she regained the ability to move and ran out as fast as she could. Unfortunately, she wasn't looking where she was going and ended up crashing into the groom himself.

"Woah! What's the hurry," Cygnus asked, reaching out to steady her. "You'd think there was a rampaging dragon chasing after-"

Then he stopped, as he saw the red hand mark on her cheek. His already dark eyes darkened even more as he glared in the direction his mother had gone. He didn't even bother asking who had done it. He knew right away.

Before she could even process it all, he had dragged her into the nearest empty room, which just so happened to be the parlor, closing the door behind him and making her to sit down on a chair.

"Don't move. This will only hurt a bit."

Taking out his wand, he pointed it at her cheek and recited a quick healing spell. It stung for but a moment before a soothing sensation washed over. When she reached up to touch it, it no longer felt hot and sore as it had just moments ago.

"Thank you," she said. "I'm starting to see why your boggart turned into her back in third year."

He let out a small chuckle. "Now you know what I have to put up with all summer. Don't take it too personally, though. I'm pretty sure she's slapped everyone in the family at some point. She slaps me on a regular basis. I've gotten pretty good at casting healing spells as a result."

That was just down right horrible! The fact that his healing spell was as effective as it was showed just how much practice he had with it. No child, no matter what age, should have to endure such abuse at the hands of a parent, or anyone else in his or her family for that matter.

"Anyway, how's Druella making out?" he asked. "Is my bride-to-be dreading walking down the aisle as much as I am?"

She glanced up at Cygnus. He looked quite nice, with his hair slicked back and dressed in his best dress robes, but his face looked positively dreadful. It looked gaunt, as if he hadn't eaten in days, and there were dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept in days either.

"Well, she's certainly holding herself together better than you, but yes, I'd say she's dreading it just the same."

He let out a deep sigh as he sat down on the chair next to her, running a hand down his face. "This is a nightmare. I feel terrible about dragging Druella into this all. Merlin knows she deserves better."

At least he admitted as much.

"You will be good to her, right?"

"I'll do my best, but to be honest, I have no choice but to do what my parents tell me to, at least until I graduate," he explained. "My parents will probably be moving in with Walburga and Orion at Grimmauld Place after that, providing they haven't managed to produce an heir for the Black Family by then."

She couldn't believe it, but she actually felt sorry for Walburga. No wonder she turned out the way she did with a mother like that. And it didn't sound like it was going to get any better for her, knowing what she did of her future children and their dates of birth. She wouldn't be producing the heirs her mother wanted for quite some time.

They stayed in there for a bit longer, before they noticed the time and realized that the ceremony was set to start soon.

Hermione managed to make it back to where the girls were all getting ready in without running into Mrs. Black again. However, it wasn't long before she showed up to inform them that the music had started. Hermione gave Druella a quick reassuring hug before getting into position behind her to begin their journey out back into the graveyard.

She hadn't even thought it possible, but the music seemed to only add to the already heavy cloud of gloom that hung over the procession. Great-Aunt Belvina, who had agreed to play the organ for the occasion, was playing a melody that sounded more like a funeral march. Then again, maybe that was her intention. The whole wedding seemed to have a death related theme to it.

The congregation was rather large in size, with almost all the Sacred 28 Families in attendance, as well as the rest of the extended Black family members. When she stopped to consider it, she realized that well over half of the guests were related to the Black's. Almost all pureblood families were related one way or another.

Cygnus stood waiting at the very end of the aisle with his two best men, Tom and Abraxas at his side, looking even more nervous than he had before. Poor boy… He wasn't ready to get married. He still acted the same as his eleven year old self. How could he possibly be expected to take care of a wife? She felt sorry for both him and Druella. They had been forced to marry far too young.

"Witches and Gentlewizards, we are gathered here today to witness the joining of the noble houses of Black and Rosier…" The ceremony official began.

There was no use denying that this was by far the worst wedding that Hermione had ever been to. Though, to be fair, she hadn't been to that many. She did her best to drown out what the ceremony official was saying and try to keep her calm, anxiously waiting for the wedding to be over with.

However, at the same time, she couldn't help but be intrigued, as this was her first ever wizard wedding. The ceremony was different from those in the muggle world. They still exchanged rings, but they also had something that she had only read about before, called a handfasting. How they did it was similar to that of a blood pact. Both the bride and groom would use a special knife to cut across their hands, just enough to draw a bit of blood, before they joined hands, thus joining their bloodline's together.

"F-Flesh of my flesh… Bone of my bone…" Cygnus recited his vows shakily.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Mrs. Black glaring venomously at her son, as if silently warning him not to mess up. Of course, this just made him even more nervous. She wasn't entirely sure whether to consider it good or bad, but Cygnus managed to make it through his vows without embarrassing himself too much. Druella looked as though she was ready to faint at any moment.

Then came the kiss. It was the most awkward, forced kiss she had ever seen. The first time, their noses crashed into one another, causing them both to wince before turning their heads one way and then the other before finally getting it right. It was so bad she had to fight back the urge to cringe. This was why people should marry for love… So that they wouldn't have to feel like they're kissing a stranger on their wedding day.

Hermione forced herself to clap along with everyone else, even though she thought there was nothing to clap about. The wedding procession made its way back down the aisle and into the house, the bridesmaids meeting up with the groomsmen as they followed after the bride and groom.

"Did you have any problems with Cygnus?" she whispered to Tom.

He nodded his head. "If it weren't for me and Abraxas, Cygnus would probably be halfway to Antarctica by now."

Yikes… That sounded pretty bad… She wondered if this had happened before or after she ran into him in the corridor. Either way, it didn't matter. They had managed to talk him out of it and now he was officially married. She still wasn't sure if that was for the best or not, but what was done was done.

Wishing to distract herself from worrying about her friends, she sought to mingle with some of the members of the family that she already knew. First she went up to Walburga and her husband, Orion.

"It's good to see you again, Walburga," she greeted. "And this must be your husband. I heard you got married."

Walburga looked at her for a few moments, taking in every inch of her appearance with a hint of puzzlement. She must not have recognized her, which was hardly surprising, considering she had hardly said more than two words to her back when she was still at Hogwarts.

"Ah yes, now I remember you," she said, sticking her nose up in the air. "You're one of Cygnus' halfblood friends. I suppose we should all just be thankful he didn't marry you instead."

Hermione knew that Walburga probably meant it as an offense, but she didn't take it as one. She was glad that it was Druella he had married and not her. The idea of marrying into the Black Family sounded positively dreadful.

"Druella certainly is lucky to marry a fine wizard such as your brother," she lied. "I wish the two of them all the best."

Orion stepped forward, apparently not as repulsed by her supposed blood status as his wife, introducing himself to her officially. She couldn't help but smile at him as, for a few brief moments, she saw Sirius standing there before her instead of his father. Sirius might not have been her godfather, but she still missed him when he died.

Unfortunately, the spell soon passed and she realized that Sirius hadn't even been born yet. Walburga, clearly not liking the friendly manner in which she spoke to her husband, pulled him away, casting a warning glare back at her.

Hermione hung back for a while after that, preferring to observe the rest of the guests from the sideline. However, that was short lived when she locked eyes with her favorite of all the current Black's. Pulling himself away from his aunt and uncle, he came over to her, greeting her with a grin.

"Are you enjoying the wedding so far?" Alphard asked. "From the looks of it, my sister seems to have given you a particularly warm welcome."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, i feel like I'm at a funeral rather than a wedding, but regardless, I'm happy to see you."

The two of them launched into an easy conversation. She filled him in on all the latest Hogwarts news and he told her all about what he had been doing since graduation. Apparently he had been splitting his time between France and Britain, having purchased a house for himself in Paris. He claimed that it wasn't anything fancy, but she was sure it still was to her standards.

"I was actually hoping that I could get your advice on something… something that I don't want my parents knowing about just yet."

She had no idea what he was talking about, but she trusted Alphard's character enough to give him the benefit of the doubt. "Of course. You don't have to worry about me telling your parents anything."

He let out a sigh of relief at that, leading them a bit further away from the crowd.

"There's this woman back in Paris, the most beautiful and kind I've ever known, and I think I might be falling in love with her, but I know my parents wouldn't approve of her," he explained. "Her name is Camille and she's a muggle-born. I'd like to start a serious relationship with her, but I'm hesitant."

Hermione could honestly say that she was surprised, though not in a bad way. It was just unexpected. She hadn't expected him to come to her asking for relationship advice. In a way, it made sense, as she was probably one of the only people he could openly talk to about it.

"Well, personally I don't see anything wrong with being a muggle-born, but I understand that you would be disowned for it. I suppose the best advice I can give you is to think it through and follow your heart."

He nodded his head. "I will keep that in mind. Thank you, Hermione."

Cygnus and Druella may not have had the chance to find love, and nor had Walburga for that matter, but that didn't mean that Alphard should suffer the same fate. If he was lucky enough to find love with a muggle-born, she wished to encourage it, even if there were some consequences to be paid.


	26. Strange Happenings

Their sixth year at Hogwarts started on an interesting note. Hardly a week into the school year, Dumbledore arranged for a special guest to come and visit. You can only imagine how surprised Hermione was when none other than Dumbledore's former prized student and famous Magizoologist, Newt Scamander, walked into class, apparently running late with his arms filled with golden trophies, along with a struggling niffler.

"So sorry I'm late, Professor, but my niffler got loose in the trophy room and I had to try and catch him," he explained, dropping the trophies on Dumbledore's desk.

Dumbledore himself just chuckled, looking none bothered by it as he reached out to pet the greedy little creature, who stilled his struggling at the professor's touch.

"That's quite all right, Newt, and please, call me Albus. I've told you many times that you don't need to call me professor anymore."

"Yes, sir."

Now a fully grown man in his mid forties, Newt Scamander still acted as though he was a young student himself. Handing his niffler over to Dumbledore, who accepted the once more struggling niffler with an amused smile, Newt then turned to face the class.

He began to speak about his experiences at Hogwarts, all the creatures he had befriended and learned to care for while there as well as how Dumbledore had always been his favorite, back when Dumbledore taught Defense Against the Dark Arts. Hermione was surprised by this. It seemed that Dumbledore had taught many subjects at this school before one day becoming Headmaster.

Newt Scamander then began to speak about the future and how the decisions you made from then on would shape your path.

"I heard that you were expelled in your sixth year," said Abraxas, having raised his hand. "Are you sure you're really the best person to be lecturing us on our decisions?"

That got the rest of the class stirred up. One after the other, students were raising their hands, wanting to know if that was true and what he had done to get expelled. Newt failed to answer the sudden onslaught of questions, his freckled cheeks turning a vibrant shade of red. Eventually Dumbledore was forced to intervene, silencing the class once more as he explained that it was the result of a misunderstanding, and that though it was unfair, it was in the past, where it should stay.

Newt nodded appreciatively to his former professor. "Does anyone else have any questions, preferably that don't involve my departure from Hogwarts?"

Moments passed and no one raised their hands. Mr. Scamander was starting to look rather disappointed at their lack of interest. Hermione rolled her eyes at the rest of the students in her class. They were missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime to hear the stories of a man who had been on many great adventures.

Without hesitation, she raised her hand. "I read all about your adventures, and I must ask… Is it true that you were the first person to successfully capture Gellert Grindelwald?"

That definitely got everyone's minds off of Mr. Scamander's expulsion. Exchanging looks with her, both Abraxas and Tom straightened in their seats, suddenly much more interested in listening to what he had to say.

Dumbledore seemed mildly alarmed at the mention of his former colleague and lover, gazing over at her in suspicion.

"Well, I don't normally talk about it, but yes, I suppose you could say I was. Though, I had help from a group of friends."

Once more, he found himself overwhelmed by an onslaught of questions, and once again he failed to answer them, He kept glancing nervously back at Dumbledore, as if silently seeking his permission to speak more. Unfortunately for him, Dumbledore seemed to be too preoccupied elsewhere to notice.

"So then, does that mean you intend to be the one to capture him again and put an end to the war?" Tom asked, capturing her attention as well as Dumbledore's.

What was he up to? What did he wish to achieve by asking such a question. They hadn't been in contact with Grindelwald in years, but she was sure that he hadn't entirely forgotten about him.

"I may have been lucky enough to capture him once, but I don't think I'm a proper match for him," he denied.

He was right in that regard. Mr. Scamander wouldn't be the one to defeat Grindelwald. In the end, it would be Dumbledore who would duel him, claiming the Elder Wand for himself and Grindelwald would be imprisoned in his very own fortress. With any luck, the battle would take place and the war would be over in a couple of years. What a relief that would be. She was already counting down to that day.

* * *

It wasn't too long after the visit of Newt Scamander that Hermione began to notice Hagrid acting strangely. Her usually cheerful friend, who always had time to talk to her, now always seemed anxious when she was around and hurried off as soon as she let him.

At first she couldn't figure out what was going on, but then she stopped to think about what she knew about Hagrid's time at Hogwarts. That's when it hit her. Hagrid never got past his third year at Hogwarts, as he was expelled for opening the chamber of secrets. Of course, he hadn't been the one to actually open it, as that had been Tom's doing.

She was fairly certain he hadn't opened it yet, but just to make sure, she made a bit of an extra effort to watch him. For the most part, he acted no differently than usual, wrapping an arm around her whenever they were together, and passing notes in between classes.

However, she did catch him doing something, that while didn't seem particularly alarming in theory, made her heart skip a beat regardless. She came back to the common room one evening to find Tom sitting by the fireplace writing in a little black journal. It didn't catch her eye until she got a glimpse of the cover and saw his name engraved into it. Tom Riddle's Diary… The very same one that he had turned into a Horcrux in her time.

"When did you get that?" she asked.

Glancing up from his writing, it took him a moment to figure out what she was referring to.

"Oh, you mean this? I stopped by the bookstore across the street from the Leaky Cauldron when we went to Diagon Alley last," he explained.

Thinking back on it, he had disappeared for a while, leaving her to try and explain everything to his muggle family. The Riddle's got to try Butterbeer that day, which they didn't even seem to mind that much. Mary wasn't too keen on it, but Thomas ended up downing two whole mugs. She could only assume that meant he liked it.

Closing the diary, he reached out and pulled her down to him so that she was seated on his lap. Hermione blushed at the sensation of Tom's surprisingly strong arms wrapped around her waist. Tom had taken to being quite openly affectionate with her ever since their first date. In a way, it was surprising, as she would have never taken Tom for an affectionate kind of guy, but at the same time, it also made sense. Tom was possessive of those he held most dear, and he had made it quite clear from day one that he didn't want any other boys to get too close to her.

"There's something I wanted to talk to you about," he said, leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek. "Cygnus, Abraxas and I have been talking and we've decided to form a gang of sorts. A few others in our house have joined, and I was wondering if you would care to join as well."

"What sort of gang?" she asked, raising a brow at him.

Perhaps her memory was simply failing her, but she couldn't recall ever hearing anything about Tom starting a gang at Hogwarts.

"I assure you, it isn't like one of those muggle gangs. We call ourselves the Knights of Walpurgis. I can not tell you too much right now, but I can tell you that our goal is to make the wizarding world a better place. I figured you might be interested, seeing as you often complain about the many things that are wrong with how it's run.

The Knights of Walpurgis… The name rang a bell but she couldn't quite put her finger on when or where she had heard it before. Either way, she wasn't quite sure what to make of it. While it was true that she didn't approve of the Ministry and their methods, she wasn't sure if she wanted the wizarding world to be run by people like the Malfoy's either.

"This doesn't have anything to do with pureblood supremacy of annihilating muggles, does it?"

He shook his head. "Of course not. I could hardly stand for such a thing when my own family are muggles, and myself being half-blood."

Hearing that filled her with relief. It was nice to hear him willingly admit to the fact that his family was non-magical. He had greatly improved in that aspect. They still weren't the closest, but that was to be expected. It would take some time for Tom to completely warm up to them, but at least he acknowledged them, addressing them by their relation to him. There was no disgust, nor familial warmth, but there was acceptance.

"Alright then, I will agree to join this gang of yours," she answered. "I suppose that makes me a knight as well then?"

He smirked, turning her around so that they were sitting face to face, her legs straddling him. "Oh no, you are far too powerful to be a mere knight. You, my dear Hermione, shall be my queen, and I your king. Together we shall rise up and make the changes that we want."

She licked her lips. There was something about the way he said those words that made them sound so… appealing and attractive… That was one of many reasons she liked Tom. He treated her like a queen. He respected her opinions, even if he didn't entirely agree with them himself, and took them into consideration.

"I like the sound of that," she admitted. "Just don't let the power get to your head too much."

His eyes sparkled, something that she now knew to be a sign of how much he adored her, and slowly he began to lower his face level with hers, stopping for a moment to just stare at her.

Her heart began to beat faster and faster in anticipation. Was this it? Was he finally going to kiss her? Though Tom had been openly affectionate with her, he hadn't actually taken the leap to kiss her yet, at least not on the lips anyway.

Tired of waiting for him to make the first move, she reached out, and closing the distance between them, claimed his lips in hers. Tom didn't seem to have any objections to this, as he let out a slight moan, pulling her even closer still so that they were literally pressed up against one another.

Closing her eyes, she let his rugged masculine scent flood her senses. She loved his scent. It was exactly like what she had smelled during Slughorn's lesson on Amortentia.

He had this earthy smell to him, not like the musty smell that came from living in the Slytherin Dungeons, but like the trees out in the forest, where they often liked to go for walks, exploring all the hidden wonders within. However, the most notable scent her nose detected was that of cinnamon. It came as a surprise to her, but Tom actually loved cinnamon. It was not something he ever had back at the orphanage, so when he first tried a cinnamon roll last Christmas at Riddle Manor, it seemed as though he had just tasted a slice of heaven.

"Mine," he mumbled as they broke apart.

"Yes, Tom, I'm yours," she assured him, leaning her forehead against his. "And you are mine."

"Forever."

* * *

Hagrid wasn't the only one acting strangely. Druella too was acting off. She was oddly quiet, never speaking unless directly spoken to, and even then she didn't always hear right away. It was as if her mind was elsewhere, so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she forgot about the rest of the world. At first she thought it might still be left over from the wedding, as she was sure it had been tough for Druella to get used to sharing her life with Cygnus.

However, when she went and asked Cygnus how things were going, he seemed to be under the impression that nothing was wrong. He hadn't even noticed that she was unusually quiet. Quite the husband he was… Clearly he wasn't going to be of any help.

Next she tried Rosaline, and while she did admit to having noticed it, she didn't know what was wrong either. Besides, she was a bit too distracted by her new beau, a french wizard she had met over the summer by the name of Raphael Lestrange. Apparently he, among with a few others, would be coming to Hogwarts as exchange students next month.

Not knowing what else to do, she decided to go directly to the source and talk to Druella about it. She waited until the end of the day, once they had retired to their dorm room and were in the process of getting ready for bed, to go over to her.

"Is everything alright, Druella?" she asked.

Druella, who's mind seemed to be elsewhere once more, nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of her voice. She had been in the middle of changing and currently stood in nothing more than her bra and girdle, which she must have been embarrassed to show, as she swiftly held her uniform up in front of her to hide her bare skin.

"W-What do you mean?" she asked shakily. "Everything is f-fine."

Hermione shook her head at her friend. She knew for a fact that wasn't true, and the tremble in her friend's voice just proved that further. However, noticing how Druella kept glancing over her shoulder at the other girls in the room, she soon caught on that she didn't want to say whatever it was bothering in front of them.

Laverna was already in bed, ready to begin snoring at any given moment, but Rosaline was still wide awake, giggling like the lovestruck teenage girl that she was at her most recent letter from Raphael. She certainly wasn't going to fall asleep right away.

"Come on, I'll help you brush your hair," she said, just loud enough so that the other girls could hear.

Gently she took hold of Druella's hand and led her over into the bathroom, shutting the door and casting Silencio on it before turning back to her friend, who by that time, was on the verge of tears.

Letting the uniform slip from her arms, Druella flung herself into Hermione's arms, breaking down into hysterical sobs on her shoulder, her body trembling uncontrollably. Hermione immediately returned the hug, pulling her over to sit down on the edge of the large clawfoot bathtub in the far corner of the room, letting her cry it out until she was ready to speak.

"Oh Hermione, I don't know what to do!"

"What is it? Is Cygnus being a prat again? That boy can be so incredibly dense sometimes."

She shook her head, letting out a sniffle as she pulled her head off Hermione's shoulder. She didn't answer at first, as she conjured up a handkerchief to dry her eyes and blow her nose. Vanquishing the now soiled handkerchief, she took a moment to calm down her breathing before explaining.

"Cygnus has been good to me for the most part. It's his mother that is the problem. She's been pressuring us to produce an heir for the family ever since the wedding," she began. "Cygnus tried to reason with her that it was too soon, and that we would start trying after graduation, but she wouldn't have it. She's been doing everything she can to try and achieve her goals, locking us in the same bedroom each night. She even tried to slip a love potion into Cygnus's tea. We've had no choice but to consummate the marriage at her urging, but we've managed to go behind her back and take preventative measures."

Hermione was absolutely horrified by what she heard. Of course, she knew that Irma Black was a terror of a woman, but she hadn't thought she could get any worse. Apparently she had been wrong. Trying to force your own child to have a child when they clearly didn't want one was totally barbaric. In her mind, that was even worse than the physical abuse that Cygnus had admitted having received from her.

"We thought we had outsmarted her, but it would seem she was the one to outsmart us," she continued. "A few weeks ago, I thought my tea tasted off. The house elf who served it to me said it was just because it was a different blend from what I was used to. At the time I thought nothing of it, but looking back now, I realize that it was Irma's personal house elf that served it to me."

Hermione gasped. "Don't tell me…"

Druella nodded her head, tears beginning to fill her eyes once more. "I believe she may have spiked it with a fertility potion… Hermione, I-I think I'm pregnant. I've been feeling queasy recently and I've missed my period by more than a week."

Hermione couldn't even begin to process how scared Druella must have felt. She was only sixteen for Merlin's sake! Of course, she understood that this sort of thing could happen by accident, but this was no accident. Her mother-in-law had forced this on her, and that was not right.

"Are you completely certain? Have you performed the spell?"

Druella shook her head. "I know that I should, but I'm too afraid. I guess a part of me just wants to cling to the smallest hope that I might be mistaken."

Hermione didn't blame her for that, but all the same, they did need to know for certain. Taking out her wand again, she thought back on that one rather awkward and uncomfortable Charms Class when Madam Vervain came in to teach them about the risks of practicing unsafe sex and preventative measures that could be taken, as well as a spell that could determine whether you were pregnant or not. Repeating the incantation from memory, she pointed her wand at Druella.

It only took a moment before her abdomen began to glow brightly.

She was indeed pregnant…

Oddly enough, Druella didn't burst out crying again as she expected her to, though she did look like she wanted to. Instead she just brought her hands up to rest on her belly, which was still glowing faintly from the spell.

"What am I going to do? How am I going to tell Cygnus? Do you honestly think he's ready for this? He acts like a child himself half the time! I just know he's going to freak out. Maybe I should get Madam Vervain to perform an abortion and pretend it never happened."

"Calm down. Everything is going to be okay," she assured her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Whether he's ready or not, you still need to tell him. He's the baby's father, after all. He has a right to know. From there, the two of you can decide what to do next."

She reluctantly agreed to that. "Will you at least come with me when I tell him? Just for support."

"Of course I will."

Wrapping one arm around her friend's shoulder, Hermione pulled her into a side hug, placing her other hand over Druella's. To be honest, she was scared for her friend's sake. It would be hard for Druella to continue her education at Hogwarts if she decided to keep the child, but at the same time, her mother in law would continue to pressure her if she chose to abort it and keep the whole thing under wraps.

Personally she had never believed that abortion was right. Though, that wasn't to say that she didn't understand why Druella was considering it. She knew that this child would most likely grow up to be Bellatrix Black, unless this timeline had changed what she knew from her own time. Only time would tell. Despite knowing that, she could still honestly say that she wanted Druella to keep the baby. A life was still a life.


	27. The Knights of Walpurgis

Hermione couldn't sleep that night. Not because she wasn't tired, but because her mind just didn't seem to shut up. It seemed like an eternity that she laid awake, tossing and turning as she struggled with her thoughts, when in reality she knew it to be just a couple of hours.

No matter how hard she tried to clear her mind or even think of something else, she just couldn't seem to get these thoughts out of her head. Who were the Knights of Walpurgis? Where had she heard of them before?

She got the feeling that she was supposed to know who they were, but every time she felt as though the answer was on the tip of her tongue, she would feel a sharp jolt in her brain, stealing her answer away. At first she thought something might be wrong with her brain, but then she remembered how Renshaw had locked certain memories in the farthest recesses of her mind, at her request.

Could the answers she sought lie within those locked away memories?

There was only one way to find out…

Pushing back her blankets, she conjured up her night robe, slipping it on before climbing out of bed and tip-toeing across the room. The rest of her roommates were all asleep, even Druella, who despite everything that had happened right before, was still able to fall asleep easily enough. All that crying must have tired her out. That was for the best. The girl needed her rest, considering the nerve wracking task she would face come morning.

Sadly, it didn't seem that Hermione would be getting such a luxury that night.

The door let out a loud creak as she pulled it open. She quickly glanced back, to see if anyone had woken up from the sound. For a moment, she thought that Rosaline might have, but she was just turning over in her sleep. Her silk sleep mask was still in place over her eyes.

Leaving the door slightly ajar, so as not to make anymore noise, she crept out and down the passageway.

The Slytherin Common Room was always especially eerie at night, the only bit of light in the room coming from the Black Lake outside their windows. That was one of the main reasons she hadn't snuck out during the night before. As always the Giant Squid was there to watch her as she went. Sometimes she wondered if the squid had anything better to do than to spy on the Slytherins.

Once out of the dormitory, she did a quick check to make sure none of her fellow prefects were patrolling nearby, before casting a quick disillusionment charm on herself and taking off down the corridor.

It didn't take long for her to reach the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Without hesitation, she stepped inside. The classroom itself was dark, but she could see light coming from the professor's personal quarters. Before she could even reach the door, it swung open and Professor Renshaw poked his head out and looked around.

"Hermione, I know you're there. I can smell you."

Lifting the disillusionment, she appeared before him. "I'm sorry for disturbing you, but I need you to unlock those memories for me," she told him. "I think there's something that I've forgotten that I need to remember."

With a sigh, he nodded his head and motioned her in, closing the door behind both of them. There was music playing on a gramophone in the corner of the room, Mozart she believed it was, and a goblet filled with blood sitting on his desk, which he took a big gulp from before grabbing his wand.

"Whenever you're ready."

Just like when she had first come and asked him for help, she sat down and tilted her head back, silently giving him the go ahead. 

He pointed his wand to her skull and recited an incantation. Within moments she felt something unlock within her brain, followed soon after by a flood of memories washing over her. At first, it was overwhelming. They were coming so fast that she could hardly make heads or tails of them. After a few moments, they evened out and Hermione was once more able to think rationally.

She was then able to more effectively search her brain for where she heard of the Knights of Walpurgis before.

A scene emerged in her mind's eyes. She could see Harry and herself seated in the library, doing homework together. Harry looked exhausted, as if he was half tempted to use the book in front of him as a pillow. Looking up from her own book, her memory self, which looked much like the current version of herself, leading her to believe that this memory took place in her original sixth year.

 _"You should ask Dumbledore to give you a bit of a break,"_ Memory-Hermione suggested. _"All of these private lessons are wearing you out."_

Harry let out a big long yawn. _"I know, but we don't have much of a choice. Slughorn won't give us his real memory and so we have to try and search what we have for even the tiniest clues."_

Hermione remembered this now. Even then, she had begun to think that Dumbledore was treating Harry rather poorly, not seeming to care for anything but finding a way to defeat Voldemort. Of course, she understood at the time that it was important, but was it really necessary to ask so much of him?

_"Have you found anything yet?"_

He shook his head. _"Not really. Most of what we saw this last time was just about the gang he started back when he was at Hogwarts."_

_"You mean Voldemort started the Death Eaters when he was still at school?"_

_"Sort of. They called themselves the Knights of Walpurgis back then. Rather a nasty lot. They were basically his henchmen, doing his bidding for him. Dumbledore believes that they helped him open the Chamber of Secrets."_

Hermione had seen all that she needed to and shoved the memory away after that.

She just sat there for a while, staring at nothing in particular with wide-eyed horror. How could she have been so foolish to let this happen? Tom had already formed the Knights of Walpurgis. And what had she done? She ignorantly let it happen and even agreed to join!

To think that this all might have been prevented if only she hadn't locked some of her memories away. She felt horrible about it, as if by doing so she had betrayed Harry… Not only that, but she felt that she had failed in her mission.

"How could he do this? I thought he had changed!" she said on the verge of tears.

Retracting his wand from her head, Professor Renshaw reached out and placed a cold hand on her shoulder. "Calm down and tell me what is wrong."

And so, she recounted to him everything that she knew of Tom's sixth year at Hogwarts and everything that he had done. Professor Renshaw rarely ever let his emotions show, so she was unable to tell whether he was truly as calm as he looked or if he was actually panicking. He just nodded every so often to show that he was listening.

"Do you think he has found the Chamber of Secrets yet?"

She shrugged. "I have noticed a few things, indicating that history is set to repeat itself, but I have no way of knowing for certain."

Nodding his head in understanding, Professor Renshaw began to pace back and forth in front of her.

"All may not be lost yet," he assured her, coming to a sudden halt. "You mentioned that he made you his second in command. That may well just work out in your favor. It would give you inside access on everything that he's planning, allowing you to influence him as you see fit as well."

"Do you really think he'll listen to me?"

He nodded. "I read his mind one day in class, shortly after you showed me the future you came from. You may not think it, but you've made a great impact on that boy. He thinks very highly of you. So much so that he's not willing to part with you... ever... He's even considered asking me to turn you both so that you'll never die."

She was surprised, not so much about the fact that Tom was considering ways of becoming immortal, as she had already suspected that herself, but the fact that Professor Renshaw had gone so far as to read his mind. He sounded like an overprotective dad who was trying to make sure his daughter's boyfriend wasn't going to break her heart.

Nevertheless, he did make a good point. Tom had placed her in a role of authority, above all the others. If they tried to do something she didn't approve of, she had the power to put a stop to it. Tom had listened to her in the past. The fact that his father and grandparents were still alive was proof. Maybe there was still hope.

"Now, I would advise that you return to your dormitory and try to get some rest."

"Yes, Grandfather."

He rolled his eyes, as always, at her insistence on calling him that, but deep down Hermione suspected that he didn't actually mind all that much.

* * *

The very next morning, after managing to get a couple of hours sleep, the two girls set out to track Cygnus down, which was by no means necessarily an easy task, considering the fact that he never seemed to stay in one place for too long. Then there was the fact that their schedules clashed. Hermione had classes that neither Druella nor Cygnus had, such as Alchemy, and then Druella and Cygnus had classes that she didn't, like Divination.

After trying and failing to find time throughout the day, they decided that their best bet was to try and get Cygnus alone after classes. The only problem with that was that Cygnus had Quidditch practice right after.

He was the Keeper for the Slytherin team and Abraxas, who happened to be Team Captain, insisted that they practice almost every day. They were getting ready for a big match against the Gryffindor Team at the end of the Quidditch season. Him and the Gryffindor's Team Captain, Minerva McGonagall, had a bitter rivalry going, as they both strove to win the Quidditch Cup for their houses.

When they arrived at the pitch, the Slytherin team were already in the sky, flying circles above their heads, seemingly none-the-wiser to their presence.

"We're never going to get his attention," Druella complained. "We may as well just go back to the castle and wait for him in the common room."

Hermione shook her head. "We'll never be able to get him alone if we do that. Abraxas makes them practice for a full hour, and by the time they get back it'll be time for dinner and then the common room will be crowded with people trying to complete their homework."

"Well, then what do you suppose we do?"

Hermione considered the dilemma for a few moments, weighing their options. The only way she could see of getting him alone for a while was if they could drag him away from practice. However, from what she could see of everyone and their positioning, it seemed that Cygnus was on the opposite side of the pitch, doing loop-the-loops through the hoop. She'd never be able to wave him down.

Then she had an idea...

"Go wait in the changing rooms," she told Druella. "I'm going to try something."

"Good luck," Druella nodded and turned to leave.

No sooner was Druella gone from sight, then she stepped out a bit further onto the pitch. Brandishing her wand, she cast the Patronus Charm, focusing on her very happiest memory; the day she received her Hogwarts Letter. A shimmering silver otter burst forth from the tip of her wand and began prancing around her in circles. She watched the animal with glee for a moment, happy to know that she hadn't lost the ability to cast the particular charm. It had been such a long time since she cast it that she feared she might not be able to cast it effectively.

"It's me, Hermione. I'm so sorry to disrupt your practice, but Druella and I need to talk to you. Meet us in the changing room. Come alone."

The otter hurried off across the pitch with that message for Cygnus, running high up into the sky and out of sight. With that out of the way, she went off to join Druella in the changing room, where they sat down to wait.

Fortunately for them, they didn't have to wait too long, as Cygnus came trudging in soon enough, his hair sticking out in just about every direction from the wind, which he quickly ran his hands through to try and flatten, and his face dripping with sweat. Setting his broom down, he came over to them.

"You wanted to talk to me?" he asked, his eyes focused on Druella. "Are you alright? Hermione mentioned that you seemed rather off yesterday."

Druella nodded her head, refusing to meet his gaze, staring down at her feet instead. She didn't speak for the first while, and so Hermione, thinking that she might try and chicken out, gave her a nudge, motioning for her to answer.

"Do you remember when your mother tried to slip a love potion into your tea?"

He furrowed his brows in confusion. "Of course I do. I tried to kiss one of the house elves. Why do you ask?"

Hermione stifled a laugh. Druella had mentioned the love potion fiasco but she hadn't mentioned that it had made him think he was in love with a house elf. As serious as she knew the situation was, she couldn't help but find the idea funny.

"I-I think she slipped something into mine too before we left for Hogwarts."

Cygnus' eyes darkened, something that they often did when it came to his mother. "What?! Why didn't you tell me sooner? What was it? Did it hurt you?"

She shook her head. "I didn't think of it at the time. She got her house elf to do it, and I didn't think she would try anything on me but…"

Reaching out, he took hold of her arms, pulling her up to her feet. "What did she do to you?" he asked, speaking slowly so as to emphasize each word.

By that point, Druella was trembling again, her eyes brimmed with tears. "I looked it up and I believe she slipped me a fertility potion…"

Cygnus, being a bit slow on the uptake, took a few minutes to process her words before they finally sunk in. His eyes widened alarmingly so.

"You're not…"

She just nodded her head.

Releasing his hold on her, he staggered back a couple steps, colliding back into the cupboards where the team stored their gear. His face had gone as pale as a ghost and he too had started to tremble.

"No… Surely you must be mistaken. That's it… It must have been something else she slipped you… It can't be... I'm too young to be a father!" he muttered.

He was in denial. That much was plain to see. Of course, the fact that he was freaking out, just as Druella had predicted, wasn't helping her any. If anything, it just seemed to make her feel worse, as a steady stream of tears cascaded down her face.

"I'm so sorry, Cygnus," she said, choking back a sob.

When he failed to say anything more, Druella promptly turned and fled from the room. Hermione called after her, but she either didn't hear her or didn't want to hear her. Gritting her teeth, she turned back to Cygnus, who was now seated on the ground in front of the cupboards with his head in his hands.

"Why did she have to do this to us? Why couldn't my mother just give us a bit of time?" He asked no one in particular. "Merlin knows we're not ready to have children yet."

As much as she felt sorry for him, for both of them, being forced into such a situation, that didn't stop her from being angry at him. His wife had just run off crying and he hadn't even noticed. Instead he was just sitting there, wallowing in his own worries!

"I know that. Druella is just as scared as you are, probably even more so, seeing as it's her who's going to actually have the baby. In fact, I bet you anything that she's running to the hospital wing as we speak to get an abortion."

Hearing the word 'abortion', Cygnus lifted his head. "Wait, what?"

"Who do you think it was that convinced her to come out here and tell you in the first place? She was convinced that you would freak out, which you did, and thought it might be better to just get an abortion and pretend it never happened."

He was back up on his feet faster than you could say Quidditch, a sudden urgency taking up residence in him. He glanced in the direction of the pitch and then back in the direction that Druella had fled. After a few moments of internal struggle glancing back and forth, he finally made up his mind and started after her.

Hermione followed shortly after, thanking Merlin that he had finally come to his senses.

"Abraxas is gonna throw a fit at me for ditching practice, but this is more important. I need to find my wife before it's too late!"

* * *

The first official meeting of the Knights of Walpurgis took place a month later upon the arrival of the foreign exchange students, who just so happened to all be old friends of Abraxas, wishing to join Tom and his cause. Apparently they had been making plans for this over the summer without her even knowing.

On the day of their arrival, the whole school was engulfed in an uproar of intrigue. Everyone wanted to know who these students were, how long they would be staying, and among the female population, whether or not they were handsome. It was all anyone could talk about for the entire day.

Hermione knew a bit more than the rest, having learned one of their names from Rosaline, and based off of the fact that they were all friends with Abraxas, they were sure to all be purebloods, but still she had to admit that she was a bit curious herself. Who were these new members? Would she know any of them? Had any of them still been around back in 1997? Or perhaps they would all be like Raphael, being related to future death eaters she had known of?

After a long day of speculating, they finally got their first glimpse at them at supper. They had just started eating when Headmaster Dippet rose to make an announcement.

"As I'm sure you are all well aware, we have been presented with the privilege of playing host to a group of exchange students from our sister schools, Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and Durmstrang Institute for Magical Learning," he declared in a loud clear voice.

Every head in the room turned towards the door as three boys, looking to be close to them in age, strode into the Great Hall. Two of them were dressed in the light blue silk uniforms of Beauxbatons and the other dressed in the fur-lined, blood red uniform of Durmstrang. Many of the girls sighed dreamily, batting their eyelashes as the boys passed in hopes that one of them might notice them, for they were all quite handsome.

Hermione watched them pass as well, not to try and catch their attention as the others were, but to see if she could identify them. The first boy, dressed in blue, looked somewhat familiar with his golden blonde hair that glistened in the candlelight, but she couldn't put a name to him. The second boy, also in blue, she assumed to be Raphael Lestrange, based off of the fact that he and Rosaline were waving to one another as well as the resemblance he bore to his cousin Romulus.

And the last boy, dressed in red, was handsome in a rugged sort of way with shaggy dark hair, a jaw lined with stubble and eyes the color of firewhisky. There was something about his face that definitely struck her as familiar. She was convinced that she had seen it before, but again, was at a loss for his name.

Supper passed quickly enough, though she didn't get a chance to speak with the new boys or even hear their names. It didn't bother Hermione too much though, as she knew she would learn their names soon enough at the meeting.

While most of them went on ahead to their meeting place, which just so happened to be the Room of Requirement, Abraxas stayed behind to wait for his foreign friends so that he could show them where to go.

The Room of Requirement, which had once been hers and Tom's secret spot, had taken the shape of a medieval royal court, consisting of a grand hall lined with tall columns on either side and a raised platform at the very end where two identical thrones of gold and green velvet were set. Knowing Tom, she didn't even need to ask who they were meant for.

With a bit of time to spare, they each went off to explore their new headquarters.

"It really is beautiful," Druella remarked, coming over to walk beside her. "It fits well with the whole knights theme as well."

Hermione nodded her head, smiling over at her friend. Her and Druella had become considerably closer over the last month, seeing as she was basically the only person outside of herself and Cygnus that knew she was pregnant. After discussing it a bit more rationally, the two of them had reluctantly decided that they were going to keep it.

She had informed Madam Vervain, who she had sworn to secrecy until further notice, but Madam Vervain had warned her that she would only have a couple months at best before she began to show and inevitably had to leave school, as the school didn't support students who fell pregnant, married or unmarried.

Two months along now, Druella was starting to develop a bit of a bulge in her belly, but she was determined to hide it for as long as she could, wanting to stay in school for as long as she could. Of course, as with anyone who was keeping a secret, it left her rather uneasy, constantly checking to see if anyone was looking at her, and when they were getting ready for bed, she would drag Hermione into the bathroom and stand sideways in front of the mirror, asking her if her belly had gotten bigger or if it was noticeable.

Cygnus, on the other hand, seemed to be at war with himself, caught between wanting to keep a close, watchful eye on her and trying to forget that she was pregnant with his child in the first place.

"And it's so nice to see my cousin again. I haven't seen Evan in years," Druella added.

"Cousin? You mean the blonde one?"

Druella nodded her head.

Well, that would certainly explain why she found him familiar. Now that she knew they were related, she could see that they did share a resemblance.

"What about the Durmstrang boy? Do you know who he is?"

Druella shook her head. "No, I don't know him."

Just then, there came a knock on the door, alerting them that the others had arrived. Everyone hurried into position, Druella and Cygnus going to stand on one side of the platform with Rosaline and Thorus Nott and, while Tom went and took his seat on one of the thrones, motioning Hermione over to take her place on the one next to him.

No sooner had she done so, then the door swung open and in came Abraxas, leading the three boys to the other end of the hall where Abraxas then went to stand on the other side of the platform with his girlfriend Hera Carrow and Milton Mulciber, leaving their guests to stand before them all.

Hermione did her best to sit up nice and tall, giving off an impression of confidence and elegance, but she wasn't sure how well she achieved that. She wasn't used to being considered a queen. The idea of other people seeing her as better than them made her uncomfortable.

"You have travelled far to join us, and for that I applaud you," Tom said, sounding very much like a ruler. In a way, it was a little off-putting, but at the same time, she also couldn't help but think that it made him sound even more attractive. "Abraxas has told me of your interest in my cause."

"He says zat you have a deep respect and appreciation towards ze old traditions of us purebloods and zat you wish to bring zem back into practice," Raphael spoke up. "I am proud to support such a cause."

The other two nodded their heads in agreement.

Tom then turned to her. "Forgive me, I don't believe I've introduced you. This is my queen and equal in terms of power, Hermione Granger."

One by one they came forward to kiss her hand, which was incredibly discomforting, but she forced herself to go along with it for the sake of appearances. After they had done so, they would each tell her their names. Of course, she already knew that the two French boys were Evan Rosier and Raphael Lestrange.

When it came time for the Durmstrang boy to kiss her hand, he lingered longer than the rest, giving her a discreet yet equally flirtatious wink.

"It pleasurrre to meet you, my lady" he spoke with a rich Russian accent. "I Antonin Dolohov, and I look forrrvarrrd to serrrving you."

Hermione felt her blood run cold. Her eyes widened as images of the Battle of the Department of Mysteries filled her brain. She remembered being grabbed by a rugged older wizard, heavily aged, which she had presumed to be the effects of so many years spent in Azkaban. She remembered the sharp pain in her chest as he sent a curse her way.

Antonin Dolohov…

No wonder she recognized his face. She was pretty sure she would recognize him anywhere, young or old. Maybe it was just the Slytherin part of her coming out, but the thought of using her elevated positioning to humiliate him as revenge came to mind, but she forced the urge back for the time being, reminding herself that this was supposedly the first time she had met him and that he hadn't actually done anything to her yet.

Once the introductions were all made, Tom could move on to explain what he had planned.

"As you all know, Grindelwald and his acolytes have been running amuck all across Europe, and while I do agree with some of his ideas, I don't agree with his methods," Tom began. "He claims that he wants a world in which wizards would be free to be themselves, and yet his followers kill our own kind the same as they kill muggles."

That much Hermione could agree with. His acolytes didn't care whether you were magical or non-magical. If someone got in their way, they exterminated them without so much as a second thought. She had to admit that she was curious as to where he was going with this.

"My plan is to take him down, but it will require us to gather much more strength and power than we currently have, for you see, I have recently discovered that Grindelwald is in possession of the Elder Wand."

Gasps echoed throughout the hall at this bit of information. Everyone knew of the Elder Wand, a legendary wand with power unlike any other wand.

In Hermione's original time, Dumbledore had been it's master, having taken it as his own when he defeated Grindelwald. She admittedly didn't know what to think of this plan. If Tom succeeded in defeating Grindelwald instead of Dumbledore… What exactly would that mean? Would it be a change for the better or for the worse?

"How do you intend to accomplish ziss?" asked Evan.

"That is exactly where the three of you come in. I have heard that both of your schools teach magic differently. Durmstrang in particular is rumored to teach spells that Hogwarts would never dream of teaching," Tom explained. "As prefects, Hermione and I have access to the restricted section in our library, where I have already unearthed many forgotten yet insanely powerful pieces of magic that are sure to aid us in our task."

"While uncustomarrry to sharrre ourrr vays vith zose outside Durmstrang, I vill make exception zis once," Dolohov said. "What headmaster doesn't know, vont hurrrt him."

It seemed that everyone was in agreement to this plan. Everyone except Hermione, that was…

With that, the meeting came to an end, though Tom made them all make a binding vow of silence, not to tell anyone else about their plans. The only ones who were exempt from making this vow were Tom himself and Hermione.

Once that was done, everyone broke off into groups to share what ideas they had with one another. Raphael suggested that they should learn both Occlumency as well as Legilimency, so that no one would be able to penetrate their minds. Abraxas agreed that this would be a good idea, suggesting that maybe he could read his father's thoughts and see what he knew about Grindelwald and his activity.

"What do you think, Hermione?" Tom asked, turning to face her. "Is this plan to your satisfaction? You were the one who inspired it, after all."

"What do you mean I inspired it?"

"You've disliked Grindelwald from the very beginning. Don't think I never noticed how tense you became every time I so much as mentioned his name."

She hadn't realized that he was paying so much attention to her.

"I'll admit that I'm not particularly fond of him, but I never once thought of taking him down myself."

The idea of Tom defeating Grindelwald wasn't what concerned her, nor was it that she didn't think he could do it. If anyone could succeed in such a task, aside from maybe Dumbledore, it was him. What worried her was what would become of Tom after he defeated Grindelwald and took the Elder Wand as his own, as she assumed he would. The wand had a bloody history, driving many a wizard mad with power.

"What do you intend to do with the Elder Wand once you take it?"

"Don't worry, Hermione, I don't intend to let myself become like Emeric the Evil," he assured her. "I intend to use it to make the changes we want in the wizarding world, upholding the old wizarding traditions while still making sure that those of muggle parentage are not only accepted but better educated about our world before they arrive at Hogwarts."

His idea sounded good… almost too good…

She hoped that she wasn't making a terrible mistake by doing so, but she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and trust him for the time being. Should she ever find that he had strayed from this plan… Well, she wasn't entirely sure what she would do… She would have to do some research of her own in the restricted section to see if there was anything that she would be able to do to stop him.

"Alright, Tom. I'll agree with this plan."

With a satisfied smirk, he leaned over and kissed her.

"I promise, I won't let you down."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to quickly apologize if I butchered the accents. I did not in any way intend to offend/make fun of anyone with accents. For the French accent, I did a bit of searching through the Goblet of Fire for Fleur's lines as examples, but otherwise used an accent generator, both for the French accent and the Russian.


	28. Safeguard

It was all too easy for Hermione to keep track of Hagrid. Taller than most other students, even those in their seventh year, and twice as wide, he had a tendency of standing out wherever he went, not to mention the fact that you could practically hear his footsteps a mile away. Ducking into nooks and behind statues whenever he glanced behind him, Hermione followed him as he made his way from the Great Hall down to the Dungeons, his hands full of leftovers from supper.

She had a hunch as to why he was being so secretive, though she didn’t know for sure. That was why she was currently following him. After the scare with Tom’s Diary and the formation of the Knights of Walpurgis, Hermione wasn’t willing to take any chances and made it her goal this year to ensure that three things did or didn’t happen. The first was to make sure that the Chamber of Secrets remained unopened. The second was that Myrtle Warren stayed alive. And the last was that Hagrid wasn’t expelled.

After a while, he finally came to a stop in front of a cupboard door. Hermione quickly ducked back around the corner as Hagrid looked this way and that before opening the door and shuffling inside, shoving the door shut with his huge foot.

Hermione waited a few minutes to wait and see if he would come right back out again. When he failed to do so, Hermione slipped out from behind the corner and quietly crept over to the door. From through the door, she could hear Hagrid talking to someone, or rather something.

“I’m sorry it ain’ to yer tastes, but ’s all I could get yeh,” Hagrid said.

“It’s fine, Hagrid. I will eat whatever you bring me,” said a second voice, much quieter and raspier.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled the door open and found that her hunch was in fact correct. Hagrid jumped up from his crouched position in front of one of the crates in surprise, revealing an Acromantula, though still bigger than the average household spider, was actually quite small in comparison to full size. Hermione could only assume that he wasn’t terribly old yet.

“Hermione? What are yeh doing down here?” Hagrid asked.

She raised a brow at him. “Well, aside from the fact that I live in the dungeons, I was following you to see where you’re always sneaking off to,” she explained. “I knew something was up, seeing as you seemed to be avoiding me.”

Hagrid may look big and intimidating at times, but underneath it all he was nothing more an oversized teddy bear with a heart of pure gold. He must have felt more guilty about it than she thought, as he broke down sobbing and proceeded to throw himself at her, engulfing her in a big squishy hug.

“I’m sorry! I didn’ mean to avoid yeh… yeh being one of my only real human friends an’ all,” he sobbed. “I didn’ want anyone ter find out an’ tell ter Headmaster.”

Reaching her arm out as far as she could, she tried to pat him on the back. “It’s okay, Hagrid. I forgive you, but you should have just told me. You know you can tell me anything.”

After a while, Hagrid freed her from his arms, grabbing a large handkerchief from his pocket and blowing his nose. Pulling off her robe, which was now drenched in Hagrid’s tears, she cast a hot-air charm on it to dry it off before replacing it.

“Yeh’re not gonna tell on me, are yeh?”

She shook her head. “Of course not.”

Stepping around him to get a closer look at the Acromantula, which began clicking its legs together angrily. It started to advance towards her, but stopped and backed away when Hagrid crouched down beside her.

“Don’ yeh dare try an’ bite her, Aragog,” Hagrid warned. “Hermione’s a friend.”

"Forgive me," Aragog bowed his hairy body in submission. “Any friend of Hagrid’s is a friend of mine.”

Now that she was certain that Aragog wasn’t going to try to eat her flesh, she could relax a bit better as she took in every inch of his being. She had to admit that she had never actually met an Acromantula before. The Hagrid in her original time had invited her to his funeral, but she had declined, not wanting to get in trouble.

“It’s incredible how well he speaks English,” she remarked. “Where did you get him?”

Hagrid smiled proudly. “Well, I was talkin’ to Newt Scamander I was, tellin ‘im how much I love magical creatures an’ he handed me this baby Acromantula he found. Asked me ter take care of ‘im.”

Newt Scamander had given Aragog to Hagrid? That was news to her. Though, she supposed that it made sense, seeing as Mr. Scamander was a Magizoologist. She had heard that he too had been well known for keeping magical creatures in the school. In fact, it was because of a magical creature that Newt was expelled in the first place, even if he was just covering for a friend. It reminded her of the very real possibility that the same sort of thing could happen to Hagrid if they weren’t careful.

“That’s very nice, Hagrid, but you can’t possibly keep him here. He may be fairly small now but he’s going to outgrow this cupboard soon enough,” she warned him. “And even if you were to find a way to keep him inside the castle, you could get caught. I don’t want you to be expelled.”

He nodded his head in understanding. “I know, but I can’ just abandon him out into ter world on his own.”

Hermione thought for a moment, considering all the options.

“What if we were to take him out into the forest? He could make a home for himself there and he’d be able to find better food. And I’ve heard that there are lots of other creatures out there. Perhaps even more of his own kind.”

Hagrid glanced over at Aragog sadly, his lower lip quivering as if he was about to break down crying again. He looked as though he wanted to protest, to keep his hairy friend locked in this cupboard forever, but ultimately he relented.

“If Aragog wants to, o’ course.”

Aragog nodded his head, or at least Hermione thought he did. It was kind of hard to tell with a giant spider..

“The girl is right, Hagrid. It is for the best that I leave this castle. I wouldn’t want for you to get in trouble because of me.”

And so, a plan was hatched. They loaded Aragog into the crate he had been sleeping in, which incidentally was full of spider webs, and levitated the crate through the door and up out of the dungeons. Hagrid watched carefully from behind to make sure the crate didn’t get jostled too much, ever concerned for his beloved pet.

Though they passed many Slytherins in the corridor, on their way back to their common room, Hermione was prepared for their curiosity and gave them the excuse that she was helping Hagrid move something out of storage for Professor Slughorn. They all seemed to buy that, no questions asked, as they went on their way.

They managed to slip out of the castle and across the grounds into the forest. Oddly enough, she hadn’t heard anyone refer to it as the ‘forbidden forest’ yet. Did something happen between now and her own time to make it so? She supposed that she would find out in time.

Not wanting to delve too deep into the forest, unsure of what exactly was all in there, she set the crate down and pulled back the lid. Aragog was still there, hanging from his spider webs, none the worse for damage.

Slowly Aragog crawled out and looked around for a while before turning back to face them. “I am most grateful to you both, particularly you, Hagrid,” he rasped. “I shall not forget all that you’ve done for me.”

And with that, Aragog crawled off deeper into the woods, whether to find proper food or to find others of his kind, that they didn’t know. He was soon gone from sight.

Hagrid gave a great big sniffle, wiping the tears that had started to form on the sleeve of his Gryffindor jumper, which only barely fit him.

“It’s okay, Hagrid. You did all that you could to take care of him, and I’m sure you can still come out here and visit him from time to time,” she patted his arm reassuringly.

Hagrid nodded. “I think I’ll do tha’.”

“Now, come on. We should get back to the castle. Curfew starts soon and it’s my turn to patrol tonight.”

* * *

Content with the fact that Hagrid was safe for the time being, Hermione shifted her focus onto that of Myrtle Warren. Not much had changed in the last three years since Myrtle had arrived at Hogwarts. The girl had very few friends, almost always sat by herself wherever she was, and never spoke much. She had remained on good terms with Myrtle, often engaging her in conversation about books when they both happened to be in the library at the same time.

Hermione had asked on more than one occasion whether she was still being bullied, but Myrtle always insisted that she wasn’t, though she was never awfully convincing. As much as she wanted to help her, she couldn’t really do much until she decided to come to her and admit that she was still having problems.

Until then, she had other issues to deal with as well.

Tom was having everyone train almost every day in the Room of Requirement. So far they had learned various advanced spells pertaining to elemental magic from Evan and Raphael, which was a specialty at Beauxbatons, as well as wandless magic, whereas Dolohov had taught them more curses and hexes.

Hermione enjoyed the elemental magic most, as it allowed her to experiment and incorporate her bluebell flames into different spells.

Tom, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy Dolohov’s curses and hexes more, which worried her greatly. And to make matters worse, they had just started learning about the Unforgivable Curses. Dolohov was eager for them all to start practicing them as soon as they could.

Hermione had come to like Dolohov less and less the more she got to know him. Not only had he gotten into numerous fights since arriving, but she had also caught him numerous times while out on patrol, tucked away in various broom cupboards with different girls in very compromising positions. More than once she had felt like bleaching her eyes.

She had tried to convince Tom that they should let him go, but he insisted that they needed him, or rather his knowledge of the Dark Arts. 

Needless to say, Hermione wasn’t looking forward to being taught the Unforgivable Curses by him, and neither was Druella for that matter.

Druella, now over three months along in her pregnancy, was finding it increasingly difficult to hide her belly, which had become more prominent in recent weeks. From the front, you couldn’t notice much, but if you saw it from a side profile, it was quite clear to see. Unfortunately, the girls uniform did very little to help matters, as it was designed to be form fitting. She had to either wear her robe completely closed or hold something in front of her belly in order to keep hiding it.

Wanting to get out of the crowded corridors, Hermione and Druella peaked their heads through the door to the girls bathroom to see if anyone was inside. When they saw no one, they stepped inside. Once inside, Druella finally let her robe fall back, bringing her hands up to hug her rounded belly.

“I think I’m going to tell the Headmaster tomorrow morning,” Druella said. “Antonin wants to start practicing the Imperius Curse tomorrow and I don’t think I could come up with an excuse to get me out of it. Besides, It could hurt the baby.”

“Where will you go? Who will look after you?” Hermione asked.

“Sadly I have no choice but to go back to Black Manor. I’m sure Irma will be thrilled to find out that her plan worked. Maybe she’ll even start treating me like a proper human being.”

Both girls scoffed at that idea. Somehow neither of them could imagine Irma treating anyone with respect, even if said person was carrying her grandchild.

“Whatever you do, don’t let Irma get her claws on your baby once it’s born,” Hermione warned. “I fear something bad might happen if she does.”

Hermione had been thinking long and hard on the future as she knew it and how Bellatrix could have ended up the way she did. If Irma had gone to such drastic measures to ensure that the Black Family Bloodline continued, who was to say that she didn’t do something to poison her young granddaughter, forcing her own influence on her?

Druella nodded her head. “I’ll try, but It’ll be difficult as there will be very few other people to help me. The only other girl in the house, aside from Cygnus’ mother, is Great-Aunt Belvina, and that woman hardly has enough brain cells left in her to function as it is.”

Moving on with their discussion, the topic shifted to that of Cygnus’ siblings. Apparently the problem with Walburga wasn’t that she was incapable of falling pregnant, but rather that she kept losing them. Apparently she had already miscarried four times since her marriage. They were both highly frustrated, and Druella even claimed that Orion had taken a mistress.

“What about Alphard?” Hermione asked. “I haven’t seen or heard from him since the wedding.”

Druella didn’t reply at first, and Hermione immediately knew that something was wrong.

“I take it you didn’t hear, but Alphard has been disowned by the family. There was a big argument over the summer. Alphard announced that he had started dating a French muggle-born witch. Irma was so furious that she used the Cruciatus Curse on him… That’s partially why she was so insistent that Cygnus and I produce an heir.”

Hermione clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp. She had no idea that any of that had happened. It wasn’t so much the fact that he had been disowned that surprised her, as she suspected that might happen, but the fact that his own mother had used the Cruciatus on him. A part of her couldn’t help but feel guilty, as if it was her fault, even though she knew it wasn’t really. In the end, it was his decision.

She knew from the Black Family Tree back in her original time that Alphard had been disowned, but Sirius had made it sound like he had been disowned because of him. Could this be another change to the timeline?

“Is he okay?”

Druella shrugged. “I think so. He managed to stumble into the fireplace and floo out in one piece. Either way, he hasn’t tried to come back since.”

She forced herself to think positively. If he had managed to floo out of there, then there was a good chance he had gotten himself taken care of. Despite feeling horrible about him being Crucio’d, she was secretly proud of him for standing up for what he believed. She made a mental note to write a letter to him, just to make sure he was alright.

Just then, she heard something coming from the far corner of the bathroom. Druella immediately pulled her robe closed as they listened closely. It sounded like stifled sobs. Not just any sobs though… Hermione recognized this sound, having heard it many times before.

Marching over to the farthest stall, she quickly checked and found a pair of feet underneath the door.

“Myrtle, is that you?” she asked.

The only reply that came was the sound of shuffling, followed by the clink of the door unlocking. A moment later, when the door was pulled open, she found none other than Myrtle Warren standing there, her eyes bloodshot and flooded with tears beneath her glasses.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you and your friend,” she sniffled.

“Never mind that,” Hermione waved it off. “What’s wrong? Why are you in here crying? Is Olive Hornby being mean to you again?”

Unable to speak, as she broke down crying once more, Myrtle merely nodded her head. Taking pity on the girl Druella conjured up a silk handkerchief and handed it to her for her to dry her eyes with. They didn’t press her for further explanation, letting her calm down and finish crying first.

“What did she do this time?”

“Well… There’s this boy in Hufflepuff that I like. Olive found out somehow and started teasing me about it, telling me that he’d never feel the same way about an ugly girl like me,” Myrtle explained. “I tried to just ignore her like you told me too, but then she said that she said she was going to tell him and I started to panic!”

She had never personally met this Olive Hornby, but she sounded kind of like Pansy Parkinson. To tease a girl who was already seriously lacking in self confidence about her crush… that was just downright cruel.

“She’s probably just jealous,” Druella suggested. “Who knows. Maybe she has a crush on the same boy as you? You shouldn’t worry so much about her telling him. You might find that he likes you too. And if he doesn’t, then that is his loss.”

Hermione was taken back by Druella’s response. You would think that someone like Druella would be like the average snooty pureblood girls, but she wasn’t. Underneath her elegant exterior, Druella really was a good person, who cared about others.

Myrtle too seemed to be surprised by this, but she managed to smile regardless.

* * *

The next day, Druella and Cygnus went up to speak with Headmaster Dippet to inform him of Druella’s pregnancy. Dippet was less than pleased by the fact they had kept it secret from him for so long, and proceeded to lecture them for it. In the end, there was no changing his mind. He agreed not to expel her, for fear that the reasoning behind it would get out, but she still had to go.

However, Cygnus was granted permission to go home on weekends to see her if he wished. Hermione intended to tag along on more than one occasion. Druella was going to need all the support she could if she wanted to stand a chance against her horrible mother-in-law and the rest of the remaining crazy Black’s.

Somehow Hogwarts felt a bit empty to Hermione after she left. Sure she still had Rosaline, but it just wasn’t the same. She didn’t connect with Rosaline like she had with Druella. Besides, even if she wanted to spend time with Rosaline, she was much too busy with her boyfriend.

That was okay, seeing as she too had a boyfriend. 

Sensing that she was feeling rather down about her friend’s departure, Tom had gone out of his way to try and make her feel better. He sat next to her in every class, sending sweet notes to her on their charmed parchment, and even paid particular attention to her during meals, going so far as to ignore Dolohov when he directly asked him a question.

They were just leaving their last class of the day when Tom reached out and took hold of her hand, bringing her to a halt.

“I have a surprise for you,” he told her, giving her one of his award-winning smiles.

“A surprise? What sort of surprise?” She turned to look at him. “What about today’s training session? I thought you were so eager to perfect the Imperious Curse.”

“I’ve already cancelled today’s training. In fact, I’ve cleared up my schedule for the entire weekend. From now until Monday morning, you have me all to yourself.”

Hermione felt her heart melt. He had willingly cancelled training with the knights, even though he enjoyed it thoroughly, just to spend some quality time with her. There may be times when she became frustrated with his behavior, scared that he might be starting to fall into darkness, but then he did things like this, proving her wrong.

“Well then, what do you have in store for me?”

“Follow me and you’ll find out.”

He led her down the corridor and up several staircases to the seventh floor. Much to her surprise, he had brought her to the Room of Requirement. This puzzled her. Why would he take her there? Was this surprise he had for her waiting inside. She reminded herself that the Room of Requirement wasn’t just a room used for teaching magic behind the professors backs. It could transform into virtually anything, according to a person’s requirement.

Tom began to pace determinedly back and forth in front of it three times, before stopping to face the blank wall. Before their eyes, a large wooden door appeared. However, rather than reach out to open it, he reached out to take her hand once more in hers.

“Close your eyes.”

She had absolutely no idea what was waiting inside, nor did she know why she had to close her eyes, though she imagined it was just to add to the surprise, but she obliged nonetheless and shut her eyes.

A few moments later, she heard the door open, and Tom pulled her inside. The air felt warmer all of a sudden and the ground beneath her feet felt different, softer even. Was she outside? She swore she heard a bird chirping just then.

He led her further in, guiding her steps so that she wouldn’t trip or fall along the way. She wasn’t quite sure, but it seemed as though he was leading her down some sort of slope.

Finally, they came to a halt, and Tom, letting go of her hand, moved to stand behind her, his hands running up and down her arms as he leaned over to whisper in her ear.

“Open your eyes.”

What she saw when she did so took her breath away. They were indeed outside, standing on the edge of the bank overlooking the Black Lake, it’s waters glistening in the sunlight. And laid out on the ground in front of their feet was a blanket with pillows to lounge on and an array of all her favorite foods as well as drinks, including both pumpkin juice and butterbeer!

“When did you-”

“I snuck back here while you were in Alchemy to make the preparations."

She honestly didn’t know what to say. It was just so incredibly sweet and thoughtful of Tom to arrange this for them. Not knowing how else to express her gratitude, she reached up, and grabbing him by the collar, pulled his lips down to meet hers in a brief yet tender kiss.

“Thank you for this, Tom,” she smiled. “You may be a bit of a menace at times, but you can be really sweet too when you want to be.”

“Of course. You know I’d do anything for you, Hermione.”

Settling themselves down amongst the blanket and pillows, they laid there for hours, talking and laughing as they ate, occasionally throwing a piece of food to the giant squid, who waved back a tentacle appreciatively.

Before they knew it, the sky had turned dark on them, and though night fell around them, the air never grew cold. They knew that they ought to return to their dorms, but neither of them seemed inclined to leave as they stared up at the stars, making it a bit of competition to see who could locate and properly name the most constellations.

Hermione won in the end, but Tom didn’t seem too upset about the fact. Although, she had a hunch that he had let her win, as she was pretty sure they would have tied otherwise. After all, they both had similar grades in Astronomy.

Eventually, they decided to just stay there for the rest of the night. Laying her head down on Tom’s chest, she cuddled into his side as he pulled the blanket around them.

“We haven’t done this since we were kids,” Hermione lamented.

“I remember,” Tom chuckled. “One of the only good memories I have of the orphanage. That and meeting you.”

There were a few times back at the orphanage when she would sneak out of her room at night and over to his, plagued by nightmares. He never asked her what they were about, but instead just moved over in his already tiny bed and let her sleep beside him. As odd as it seemed, his presence alone seemed to calm her down and drive the nightmares away.

“I remember feeling all alone in the world, so desperate to make a friend that I went and knocked on the door next to mine, even though Mrs. Cole warned me to stay away.”

She felt Tom run a hand through her hair, his fingers toying with her curls. “I’m glad you did,” he admitted. “I feel like my life would have been quite empty without you.”

“Yes, I think mine would have been quite empty as well.”


	29. A Black Birth

Months passed, and staying true to her word, Hermione managed to visit Druella from time to time, despite the disapproval of Irma Black. In this way, she was able to be with her friend in this troubling time for her, letting her vent about her awful mother-in-law and lending her a shoulder to cry on when she needed it.

Cygnus was always there as well, but he never said much. He just sat in the corner of the room and twiddled his thumbs in awkward silence. She had tried to help him along by involving him in their conversations, but it just didn’t seem to help matters. Honestly, she wondered if she was fighting a losing battle with him. Would he ever learn to show more interest and affection towards his wife and child?

Finally the day came for Druella to give birth. They received a letter from Cygnus’ Mother late in the evening on May 10th, informing him that Druella had gone into labor not long ago as well as demanding that he be present for the birth. Much to Hermione’s surprise, Irma also requested her presence as well. She hadn’t thought that the woman would want someone like her near her precious pureblood grandchild, but she wasn’t about to object.

They immediately dropped what they were doing and hurried up to the Headmaster’s office at once to use his Floo Network, only pausing long enough to quickly inform Tom of where she was going and kiss him goodbye.

No sooner had they arrived at Black Manor, then Irma was pulling them out by their arms and dragging them upstairs to Druella’s bedroom.

Cygnus, of course, started panicking, fighting to get free from his mother’s grasp. “You don’t expect me to go in there and help, do you?” he asked. “I mean… I can’t… I’m not a woman!”

Hermione rolled her eyes. Well spotted, Einstein.

Irma seemed just as impressed by her son’s remark. “Of course not, you foolish boy! You’ll be waiting in the drawing room along with the rest of the family”

Druella had explained the pureblood traditions surrounding childbirth. When it came time for a new baby to be born, the entire family would gather together for the occasion. Yet another tradition dictated that all pureblood children were to be born at home, rather than at St. Mungo’s, to ensure legitimacy or something like that.

Stopping in front of Druella’s door, Irma briefly released her hold on Hermione just long enough to open the door before shoving her inside and slamming the door closed behind her.

Druella’s bedroom was quite beautiful, not to mention considerably less dark and dreary than the rest of the house. For starters, the walls were a light pink shade, Druella’s favorite color, and the curtains were actually open, letting in some sunshine for once. There were vases containing pretty pink buttercups and peonies littered across the room, adding an extra bit of cheer as well. It was clear to see that Druella had decorated the room to her own tastes. At least she had been allowed that much.

“Hermione! You made it!”

Laying in her plush queen-size bed, with her head propped up by use of several pillows, was Druella. Her long blonde hair had been braided so as to keep it out of her face. Without delay, Hermione went to her side, sitting down on the edge of the bed as she leaned down to give her a hug.

“How are you feeling?” Hermione asked. “Are you in too much pain?”

She shook her head. “Not too much yet. The contractions are still mild and well spread apart.”

Despite this, Hermione could see that Druella was worried. Her face was pale, and her hands were trembling. It was to be expected. After all, she was about to give birth. Childbirth was a troublesome time, even for a witch. Sure, there wasn’t much chance of the mother or child dying in the process, as magic could be used to prevent such outcomes, but that didn’t change the fact that it was still scary.

“I’m not so scared about the birth itself, but more so about what it’ll be like afterwards. Cygnus will still be in school, meaning that I’ll have to take care of the baby mostly on my own,” she explained. “I don’t think Cygnus cares all that much. He does his best to keep me safe from his mother, but I can tell that there’s no love. What kind of life will our baby live, knowing that it’s parents don’t love each other?”

Hermione completely understood Druella’s fears, having similar fears herself concerning the baby's life.

“Boys can definitely be difficult to understand at times. I suppose that some simply find it easier to show affection than others. In a way, it makes sense for Cygnus to be the way he is. How can someone like him show affection when no one has ever shown him affection before? I doubt his parents ever showed him any.”

Druella was quiet for a few moments, as she seemed to be considering it. However, she was soon interrupted as a contraction hit her just then.

Hermione did her best to keep her friend calm and distracted in between contractions, obliging her friend by discussing the latest fashions with her, even though she cared little for the topic. It put Druella in a more positive mindset to think about all the nice form-fitting clothes she would be able to wear again once she wasn’t pregnant anymore. Many times over the course of her visits she had complained of how unflattering her maternity clothes were, insisting that they made her look even more like an Erumpent.

A couple hours in, a healer from St. Mungo’s showed up to examine Druella and make sure everything was going well. She left soon after, promising to return in a few more hours when she was closer to giving birth. This frustrated Druella who was eager to get it over and done with.

The next six hours seemed to drag on at a snail's pace. The two girls did everything they could think of to pass the time. They played numerous games of wizards chess and Hermione even introduced her to a few muggle games that she had played as a child, such as Tic-Tac-Toe and Go Fish. They swore never to let Irma find out. 

Having read somewhere that it could help speed up the labor process, she suggested that Druella try walking around the room for a while. There was plenty enough room for her to do so. Needless to say, Druella was more than willing to try it, leaning on Hermione for support as she walked in circles.

“Do you know if it’s a girl or boy?”

Druella shook her head. “Another one of the Black’s many traditions, I’m afraid. We’re not allowed to find out the gender until the baby is born.”

The contractions slowly but surely got stronger and closer together, until they were so close that Druella hardly got a break in between. Helping her back into bed, she left the room briefly to go and find Irma.

She found her, in the drawing room across the hall, along with almost every other member of the Black Family and Druella’s parents. She couldn’t help but feel a bit sad about the fact that Alphard wasn’t allowed to be there. He had always cared for his younger brother, watching out for him back when they were both at Hogwarts. There was no doubt that he would have liked to be able to see his niece come into the world. She would have to write him a letter later, telling him all about it. Maybe she could even get her hands on a photo to send him.

Everyone went quiet all of a sudden when she entered the room.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you, but I think it’s time,” Hermione told them.

At that, every female in the room stood from their seats and proceeded to follow her back to Druella’s bedroom. While the married women argued over who the baby would resemble more and who the baby would be named after, Cassiopeia, who was considered an old maid for being twenty-nine and unmarried, went to fetch the healer.

Rolling her eyes at the bickering women, Hermione returned to Druella’s side. Their arguing was not helping Druella at all. If anything it was just stressing her out. 

“W-Would you p-please hold my hand?” Druella asked, looking up at her with pleading eyes.

Hermione nodded her head as she took hold of her right hand. “Of course. I promise I won’t let go until it’s over.”

Druella managed to give her a small appreciative smile.

Cassiopeia soon returned with the healer, who went straight to work. Pulling the blanket back from over Druella’s legs, along with her silk nightgown, the healer positioned her legs so that they were appropriately spread out. 

“Alright, Mrs. Black, I’m going to need you to start pushing now.”

Nodding her head, Druella began pushing at the healer’s instruction, clamping down with an iron grip on Hermione’s hand. It hurt a bit, but Hermione did her best to ignore it, knowing that Druella was in a lot more pain than she was.

Though she kept her gaze on Druella for the most part, she couldn’t help but glance back at the rest of the women in the room to see what they were doing. They were watching the scene unfold like vultures, as if they were ready to swoop in and steal the baby as soon as it was born. Hermione made a silent vow to herself, as well as to Druella, that she wouldn’t let them hold the baby before Druella even got the chance. She’d stun the crazy witches if she had to.

It was a frightening scene to be sure. Hermione had never witnessed someone giving birth before, so she was a bit unnerved by it. She had never given the thought of having children herself much thought, but with the way she was feeling about it right now, she swore that it would be years before she even considered it properly.

Remarkably enough, the birth itself didn’t take nearly as long as the labor did. The baby was born within the hour, letting out it’s first piercing cry. Druella relaxed her grip a bit as he collapsed back against her pillows in exhaustion, breathing heavily. However her eyes were wide with alertness, searching for the first sight of her newborn baby.

“It’s a girl!” cried the healer.

The room was filled with mixed reactions towards that news. Some people were pleased by this, while others were considerably less so. Irma was one of the ones who was less than pleased. Hermione couldn’t help but smile at the frustrated expression on her face. She had clearly been hoping for a grandson.

_Too bad for you, Irma,_ Hermione thought. _You’re going to have to wait for a grandson from Walburga._

Fortunately, this worked in their favor, as she suddenly wasn’t so eager to grab the baby.

Casting a scouring charm on the baby to clean it up, the healer then swaddled her in a soft white blanket and handed it over to Druella, who eagerly reached out to take her, despite the fact that her arms were shaking.

Hermione leaned over to get a better look. The baby was so tiny and fragile looking that it seemed as though she might break if someone were to hold her even the slightest bit wrong. She was adorable, there was no doubt about it. Hermione noticed that the baby already had a full head of dark hair, which she had clearly gotten from her father.

“She’s beautiful, Druella,” Hermione complimented her. “You have a beautiful daughter.”

Druella nodded, on the verge of tears. “She is… She really is…”

As soon as she had finished cleaning Druella up, the Healer took her leave, followed shortly after by Irma who went to go and tell the men the news and get Cygnus. Another tradition in the Black Family stated that it was the father who got to name the children, male or female. Hermione thought that this tradition was particularly unfair. Druella had gone through all that pain and she didn’t even get to name her own daughter? She had to bite her own tongue to keep herself from voicing her outrage.

One by one the women of the Black Family lined up to see the baby and give their best wishes before leaving as well. Walburga did so as well, though she didn’t seem too happy about it, going so far as to glare at the baby with a look of pure loathing. Clearly she was going to be a _great_ Aunt.

For a short while, the three of them were left in peace to just stare at the baby. Hermione carefully reached out a finger to stroke her squishy red cheek. The baby squirmed a bit, it’s face scrunching up a bit at the sensation of being touched, but she soon settled without so much as a peep.

Their attention was then pulled away from the baby as they heard the door open. Turning around Hermione saw Cygnus standing there. He didn’t move at first, even after Hermione had gotten up from the side of the bed and moved to give him a chance. He just stood there, looking more scared and uncertain than she had ever seen him before.

“Do you… Would you like to come meet your daughter?” Druella asked hesitantly after a while.

He nodded his head with a gulp as he slowly began to approach the bed. His eyes widened considerably as he laid eyes on her, but they quickly softened, a bit of a smile tugging at his lips. His feelings for his wife may have been unknown, but his feelings towards his new daughter were plain to see her. He loved her.

“She needs a name.”

They discussed it for a bit, and much to Hermione’s pleasure, Cygnus asked for Druella’s opinion on the matter. The Black Family had a long standing tradition of naming their children after stars and constellations, so that narrowed down the list they had to choose from. They both immediately shot down the idea of naming their daughter Irma after her grandmother. One Irma was more than enough.

“What about Bellatrix?” Hermione suggested. “It’s a star in the constellation of Orion.”

“Bellatrix Black… I like it.”

Looking at her now, it was hard to imagine that this tiny adorable baby could one day grow up to be such a dark witch, but she tried not to think about it.

“Now we just have to choose the godparents.”

“Actually, I think I already know who I want to be the Godmother,” Druella said. “I was hoping that you might take that role, Hermione.”

This definitely surprised her. “Me? You want me to be Bellatrix’s Godmother?”

Druella nodded her head. “It only seems right. After all, you’ve done more to care for me and Bellatrix than everyone else in this house combined.”

“I agree with that,” Cygnus said. “And for the Godfather, I was thinking either Tom or Abraxas. However, if Hermione is the Godmother, I think it would make more sense for Tom to be the Godfather.”

Hermione’s head was spinning at the idea. She didn’t know what to say. A part of her thought it might be a bad idea, as she didn’t particularly want to get too involved with the Black Family, though she supposed it couldn’t be helped, being friends with Druella and Cygnus and all. On the other hand, perhaps it would be for the best. It would give her a chance to play a substantial role in Bellatrix’s upbringing and maybe teach her not to hate Muggles.

“Well, if you’re sure, then I’d be honored to be her godmother.”


	30. The Chamber of Secrets

After a summer spent, for once not with the Malfoy’s, but with the Riddle’s, Tom and Hermione returned for their seventh and final year at Hogwarts. Unlike the six previous years, this year wasn’t so much a repeat for Hermione, being the first time she took her seventh year. Everything she experienced this year would be new and unpredictable. Though, she wasn’t entirely sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

There was so much to do this year. Not only had she been made Head Girl this year, bringing new responsibilities with it, but she would be taking her N.E.W.T.s, meaning that she would have to put in extra hours of studying to prepare herself. She would need to achieve at least Exceeds Expectations in all her classes, especially potions and alchemy if she wished to pursue a career in such.

In addition, Tom felt that the Knights of Walpurgis were just about ready to initiate their plan. Abraxas had been closely monitoring his father’s thoughts all summer, keeping tabs on Grindelwald. According to what Abraxas had heard, Grindelwald was located at his fortress, Nurmengard, in Austria. Tom and the knights were currently in the process of trying to come up with an infallible strategy to grant them victory.

Feeling the lack of friendly companionship that came with Druella’s absence, Hermione had started spending a bit more time with Hera. It wasn’t the same, Hera being a year behind her, but it was still better than nothing, and she could honestly say that she liked Hera. She was pleasant to be around, and didn’t gush over her boyfriend constantly like Rosaline.

With everything that was going on, Hermione felt as if she was being pulled in a dozen directions, without even a moment to just sit and relax. The feeling was reminiscent of when she used the time turner back in her original third year to take so many classes. At least she no longer had to put up with Antonin Dolohov on a daily basis. He, along with Evan and Raphael, had returned home, and wouldn't be back until Christmas, when they planned to enact their plan.

“Have you been to see Druella and the baby lately?” Hera asked.

Hermione nodded. “I went with Cygnus and Tom to visit them last week,” she explained. “Bella is growing so fast. It’s hard to believe that she’s already almost five months old.”

Hera squealed with delight. “She sounds so adorable! I can’t wait until Abraxas and I are married and have children of our own.”

Hermione stifled a giggle. It wasn’t all that difficult for her to imagine, seeing as she had met not only their future son, but their grandson as well. She tried to imagine a baby Lucius, dressed in those ridiculous frilly baby clothes that Purebloods made their children wear, with his pointed nose and a haughty look about his face. It made for an amusing visual.

“What about you and Tom?”

“Well, I don’t know about Tom, but personally I’m not in any hurry,” Hermione told her. “I’d like to travel and establish myself within a career for a while before I consider settling down.”

“I quite agree with you there, love.”

Hermione jumped, not only at the sound of his voice, but the feeling of his arms winding their way around her waist. She turned her head to find Tom standing there behind her.

“Tom! You scared me!”

Tom chuckled, a cheeky expression on his face. “Forgive me. That was not my intention.”

She rolled her eyes. _Yeah right,_ she thought. She knew him well enough to know that was exactly what he was intending.

“Carrow, would you mind terribly if I stole my girlfriend from you for a while?” he asked.

“Not at all,” Hera said with a giggle. “I’ll catch up with you later Hermione.”

Waving back to them, she took off down the corridor.

Tom wasted almost no time in pulling her away from the steady traffic of students, hugging her even closer to him. Bending down, he began to kiss her neck. Hermione couldn’t help but let out a small moan of pleasure, despite her own mortification at the looks some of the passing students were giving them.  
“Tom, people are staring,” she pointed out.

“I’m Head Boy. I can do whatever I want.” Tom said. “Besides, I’m not ashamed to let the whole school know that you’re mine.”

Needless to say, she made no further attempt to stop him.

It was a good few more minutes before he released her from his arms, having quenched his desire for the moment. Turning her around to face him, he brought a hand up to touch the spot on her neck that he had previously been kissing.

She winced slightly at the touch. Oh great, she thought, rolling her eyes. She couldn’t see it herself, but she was fairly certain that he had given her a love bite.

“I take it you didn’t send Hera away just for that.”

He shook his head. “I want to show you something.”

She raised a brow at that. “What is it?”

Taking hold of her hand, he began to lead her away in the opposite direction. Curious as to where he was taking her, she followed without hesitation as he led her down several floors to the second floor, eventually coming to a stop in front of the strangest possible place.

“Why are we in front of the girl’s bath-”

Her eyes widened all of a sudden as it dawned on her. This wasn’t just any ordinary bathroom. But, wait… How and when had he managed to discover it? She was pretty sure that Tom wouldn’t just waltz into the girls bathroom and stumble across it by accident. No… He must have found out some other way.

“Trust me, it’s not what you think,” he assured her, tugging her along as he pushed open the door and stepped inside. 

To make sure that no one was hidden inside, Hermione quickly went and checked all of the stalls. When she was certain that they were truly alone, she went back to Tom, who cast a quick locking charm on the bathroom door before turning to stand in front of the sinks.

“Do you remember when we read about a hidden chamber that Salazar Slytherin had built in the school?”

Hesitantly she nodded her head. Of course she remembered. She had hoped that if she discouraged his interest in it, passing it off as nothing more than a myth, that he would forget about it, but that clearly hadn’t happened.

“It’s not a legend after all. It’s true, and this is the entrance to it.”

Taking a step back, he began to speak in Parseltongue.

_“Eeesssss ssssith sssssssseeeh sssssissssss.”_

Before her very eyes, the tap began to glow brightly, causing her to squint, as it began to spin out of control. Then, the entire sink began to move, sinking down into the floor, revealing a large pipe hidden behind it.

Hermione held her breath. She had only ever heard about the chamber and it’s passageway, seeing as she was petrified when Harry and Ron first discovered it, so this was all quite new to her. They hadn’t exactly gone into much detail about their experience down there, aside from the fact that there was a giant Basilisk down there.

The thought made her gulp.

“W-What’s down there?” she asked. “Is it… safe?”

He gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s perfectly safe so long as you’re with me.”

Tom took a step towards it, grasping the edge of the pipe as he pulled his legs inside and swung himself inside. He soon slid down and out of sight.

Hermione couldn’t deny that she was wary. She didn’t like the idea of following him down there, but at the same time, she was curious as to what he was doing down there. After a few moments, she convinced herself to go, if only to keep an eye on Tom. She only hoped that it wouldn’t end in her being petrified again… or worse…

With a deep breath, she slid down after Tom, holding her skirt down so that it wouldn’t fly up.

At first it was terrifying, not to mention that the pipe was smelly and slimy, but once that wore off, she found that it was actually surprisingly fun. It kind of reminded her of the water slide her and her dad had gone on together when she was younger. Of course, this slide was considerably longer, as it seemed to go on forever and branched off in multiple directions. 

For a moment, she wondered whether they would be able to find their way out again. Would they have to climb all the way back up the pipe? She didn’t relish the thought. Climbing had never been one of her strong suits.

The matter was soon forgotten about, as she finally reached the bottom, landing straight in a puddle with a thud.

Tom, who had already cast Lumos, stepped into view, holding out a hand to help her up. “Are you alright?”

She nodded her head, wiping the slime off her hands on the side of her uniform. “Promise me you won’t make a habit of taking me on dates down here.”

He chuckled. “It’s not very romantic, is it?”

“No, it isn’t.”

The two of them started off into the dark tunnel. Hermione stuck close to Tom, not wanting to get separated from him. Unlike her, he seemed to actually know where he was going, meaning that he had probably journeyed down at least once before. When he had managed to do this was beyond her.

After at least a dozen bends, they reached the end of the tunnel, coming upon a wall with two two entwined serpents carved into it.

Stepping up to it, Tom proceeded to speak in Parseltongue once more.

The wall gave way almost at once. Hermione’s eyes widened as she caught sight of a vast chamber, lined with stone pillars engraved with yet more serpents, rising up to support a ceiling that could not be seen. 

This was it…

“Welcome to the Chamber of Secrets.”

Tom strode inside, as if there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary about the place, while Hermione couldn’t help but stare at it, taking in every inch of it before slowly following him in.

“What do you think?”

Words failed her. She didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t know what to think. It was impressive, that much was sure, but at the same time, there was something ominous about the chamber. The air was thick with dark magic, so much so that it seemed stifling. She could sense that this chamber had witnessed more than its fair share of dangerous spells.

“I’d like you to meet a friend of mine.”

Her focus snapped to that of the giant statue at the far end of the chamber. Tom hissed out a few more words in Parseltongue, and the mouth of the statue, which she assumed to be of Salazar Slytherin, began to open.

Hermione shut her eyes tightly, her body frozen in place with fear. She could hear a different hissing now, blending with Tom’s. They were communicating with one another. She could hear the Basilisk slithering against the floor, sounding as if it was coming closer.

_It’s alright. I’m alright,_ she thought. Tom was there with her. He wouldn’t let the basilisk hurt her. He alone could control the beast. He would call it off if he thought she was in danger. _Tom will keep me safe… I know he will… I trust him..._

“You can open your eyes,” she heard Tom say, feeling his hand take hold of hers again. “I’ve commanded him not to look at you.”

_I trust him…_

She opened only one eye at first, testing it to see if what he said was true. She could see the scaly body of the enormous snake standing before her. After a few moments, she opened her other eye as well. The basilisk began to lower his head then, until it was level with her. Just as Tom had said, the basilisk kept it’s eyes averted so as not to look directly at her.

Raising a brow, she glanced over at Tom, who stood at her side. “What does he want?”

“Only to be your friend. He acknowledges you as his mistress.”

Hermione blinked. “Mistress?”

Tom nodded. “Of course. You are his mistress and I am his master.”

The basilisk considered her as his mistress? She didn’t quite know how to feel about that. In a way, it could be a good thing. At least she knew he wouldn’t try to kill her. The only drawback was that she couldn’t effectively communicate with him. Only Tom could do that.

“Well then, I’m going to have to learn how to speak Parseltongue,” she claimed. “Not only would it allow me to understand him, but then I could understand you as well.”

“I suppose I can try to teach you, though I’m not sure if I’ll be able to.”

She understood what he meant. Parseltongue wasn’t generally a language that was learned. It was an ability that certain people were born with. Still, Hermione liked to think that it wasn’t impossible to learn. She would have to do some research into it.

Letting go of her hand, Tom returned to the basilisk. He hissed something, to which the basilisk seemed to nod. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial, which he uncorked before slipping his hand into the basilisk’s mouth and holding it under one of many giant fangs. Venom began to drip out from the end, filling the vial to the top.

She eyed the newly-filled vial in question as he stuffed the cork back in and slid it back into his pocket. “What’s that for?”

“Just a concoction I’m working on,” he said with a smirk. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll show you the way out.”

Hermione got the feeling that there was more to it than that, but decided not to question him on it for the moment. She was just relieved that he hadn’t unleashed the basilisk on anyone… or at least, she didn’t think he had. Surely she would have heard about it if he had. Either way, she was more than ready to get out of there and rid herself of the smell and grime that came with traipsing through the plumbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! Yes, I'm still alive and well.
> 
> I'd like to apologize for my absence as of late. I just had a spell where I couldn't figure out what I was writing next, and then a friend of mine got me interested in Star Wars, which I've been obsessing over ever since. Anyway, I'm back now. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I know a lot of you have been waiting for it.


	31. Masquerade

The Malfoy’s Christmas Ball was always an extravagant affair, and this year was no exception. The ballroom, a vision of glistening beauty, was filled with witches and wizards from all across the world, their faces all hidden beneath various masks of shapes and colors. Every year the Malfoy’s would select a theme in which their guests were required to match their costume to, and this year's theme was; Masquerade Ball.

Among the throng of unidentifiable guests was a particularly mysterious pair. If you looked close enough you could vaguely see a pair of stormy blue eyes peering out from beneath a black and white raven mask, donned in pitch black dress robes, and at his side stood a woman dressed in a red and gold full-face venetian mask and matching gown. Every now and then, a stray curl would surface from behind her mask.

“Any sign of him yet?” Hermione asked, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“No, but I have the knights stationed near every entrance. They’ll notify me when he arrives.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a galleon just long enough for her to see it before slipping it back into hiding.

Hermione nodded her head. She had cast a Protean Charm on fake galleons, much like she had in her original fifth year, so that they would be able to stay in contact with the Knights of Walpurgis throughout the night.

Alas, this particular ball was not intended to be fully enjoyed, at least not for Tom and Hermione. If everything worked out according to plan, this ball would mark the end of the wizarding war, and perhaps even the end of the war going on in the muggle world. It dawned on Hermione that she might be altering history as she knew it quite significantly, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. The sooner the war ended the better.

“In the meantime, would you care to dance, m’lady?” Tom asked, turning to her with a bow.

She curtsied in return. “I would love to, m’lord.”

Leading her through the crowd and over onto the dancefloor, they easily fell into step as a gentle waltz began to play. For a brief while Hermione was able to forget the nerves in regards to the coup they were attempting to pull off and just enjoy being in Tom’s arms.

There had once been a time when Hermione had loathed the idea of being in the height of Pureblood Society, and to an extent, she still did, but she had come to be more comfortable in it, undoubtedly the result of years spent living with the Malfoy’s.

“It would seem we’re not the only ones who decided to take the opportunity to dance while we wait,” Tom said, motioning off to the side with his head.

Following his line of gaze, she found that he was referring to the couple dancing nearby. It didn’t take long for her to recognize her friends, even with masks. The woman’s golden hair gave it away.

No sooner was the dance over, then the two of them went over to greet them, removing her mask for the time being so that she could see them better.

“It’s so good to see you again, Druella,” Hermione said, giving her friend a hug. “I wasn’t sure if you would be able to make it.”

Druella eagerly returned the hug. “I wouldn’t miss a chance to see you for the world.”

Hermione then turned to hug Cygnus. It might not have been exactly appropriate, but no one else seemed to notice, and quite frankly, she didn’t care. Cygnus and Druella were her friends and any friends of hers could expect to receive hugs.

“How are you, Cygnus?”

“I’m doing well, thank you, Hermione,” he replied with a smile.

She had to admit that there was something different about Cygnus. He had always been a bit more laid back with his appearance. That much hadn’t really changed. She could see it in his face. His eyes seemed a bit lighter than usual, softening as he glanced over at his wife, whom she noticed he was holding hands with. He seemed happy… They both did… more so than she had ever seen them before.

They stood and chatted for a while about what had happened since they had last seen each other. Tom’s uncle, the horrible Morfin Gaunt, had recently died. According to the Ministry Representative, who had stopped by Riddle Manor to inform them, claimed that he had strangled himself, no sign of magic being used at all. It didn’t really come as a surprise to Hermione. Merlin knew he was senile.

Regardless, as the last remaining member of the Gaunt Family, the family’s meagre possessions, along with the Gaunt Shack, had been passed down to Tom. With the body of his uncle removed, he entered the shack and rummaged through it, taking what little he found of interest. The only notable item he had found was the Gaunt Family Ring, which was currently secured around his finger.

In the end, the death of Morfin Gaunt had brought about some good. The three generations of Riddle Men were able to finally put aside their differences and burn that miserable shack down together. As morbid as it sounded, it served as a bonding experience for them.

“He’s here.”

Feeling a heating sensation against her chest, she reached out and pulled the coin that she had fashioned into a necklace for the event. The signal was coming from Abraxas. Slipping it back into hiding, they turned to the north entrance.

The crowd had cleared, making a path for a man in a gold goat mask, presumably Mr. Malfoy, a younger man in a white half-mask that was reminiscent of the Phantom of the Opera, clearly Abraxas, as well as a third man, who was easily recognizable in a two tone mask, one half white and the other half black, a pair of just as mix-matched eyes staring out underneath.

It was Grindelwald…

“Looks like it’s showtime,” Hermione whispered, replacing her mask.

The group turned back to each other, nodding their heads in silent agreement. Cygnus and Druella quickly wished them luck before they parted way with their friends.

They waited until the three men had finished their procession and the crowd had once more scrambled to go and join them, eager to grab them full attention before they became tied down with the other guests.

“Ah, there you are! We were wondering where the two of you had run off to,” greeted Mr. Malfoy.  
“Forgive us, we were simply taken in by the festivities,” Tom said, flashing them his most charming smile. “We were actually hoping we might be able to have a word with you… in private…”

“Oh?” This seemed to capture Grindelwald’s attention. “May I ask what about?”

Tom pretended to glance about, checking to see if anyone was close enough to overhear them. There wasn’t. Everyone was much too busy with their conversations to pay attention. Not that they truly cared if anyone were to hear them. Most of the people in the room were either acolytes or supporters.

“It has to do with the _offer_ you made us years ago.”

An all too pleased grin tugged at moustache lined lips. “Darius, might you have a room in which we can withdraw to?”

Mr. Malfoy nodded his head. Motioning to them, he began to lead them through the crowd, towards a different entrance, breaking off into a small empty corridor with only two doors, one leading to the kitchen and the other leading to a bathroom. However, Mr. Malfoy entered neither of these doors. Instead, he took out his wand and quietly muttered an incantation in front of a blank wall.

The wall in front of them slid open to reveal a hidden staircase. He led them up the stairs, which seemed to go on forever, the secret entrance sliding closed behind them, leaving them in the darkened stairway, illuminated only by a faint glowing light coming from above.

Eventually they arrived in what appeared to be Mr. Malfoy’s secret study, for it contained many things that they were sure he would not want the Ministry to know about. Hermione had, of course, known that the Malfoy’s were in possession of disreputable artifacts, but she would have never guessed that they had this many.

The entire room was lined with shelves and shelves of magical relics that screamed with dark magic. Hermione couldn’t help the bile that rose in her throat at the sight of what appeared to be a werewolf skull. Suddenly the Malfoy’s disapproval of Remus Lupin made sense to her. She wasn’t sure if they still did so, she sincerely hoped not, but it was clear that they had hunted werewolves at one point.

“Now that we are in private, please do go on,” Grindelwald urged them.  
“We’ve been thinking about that offer you made us so many years ago, and of course we’ve been following your achievements in the Daily Prophet,” Tom began. “Hermione and I agree with what you’re trying to achieve, and we were wondering if it would be possible for us to join your cause, even though we are still students.”

Grindelwald turned to look at Hermione, who was fortunate for the fact that the mask concealed much of her face, preventing the men before her from seeing the scowl beneath.

“Is this true?”

She nodded her head. “I do not believe that it is right for our kind to have to hide simply because we are gifted in ways that the muggles cannot understand.”

He seemed satisfied with this answer, judging from the grin on his face.

“I wish to join as well, if I may,” Abraxas added in.

Mr. Malfoy clamped a hand on his son’s shoulder, his eyes shining with pure pride. Abraxas stiffened under his grasp, but said nothing.

“It would be an honor to have you three join my ranks,” Grindelwald replied. “I have spies in many places, but I have yet to find a way to penetrate the walls of Hogwarts. You would serve me well by acting as my eyes and ears from the inside.”

The three of them bowed their heads in fake respect.

“Well then, I think this calls for a toast!” Mr. Malfoy exclaimed. “Dobby, come here!”

POP! In a blink, Mr. Malfoy’s personal house elf was standing before them, dressed only in the same old pillowcase that he always wore. Hermione noticed that he seemed a bit more squeamish than usual. Not that she could blame him.

“Fetch a bottle of our finest elf-made wine,” he ordered.

Nodding his wrinkled pink head, Dobby snapped his fingers and disappeared again. A few minutes later, a tray with five glasses, each filled with blood-red wine, appeared on the desk.

The group gathered around the desk, each picking up a glass.

“To a new and prosperous era for the Wizarding World!”

Raising their glasses, Tom, Hermione and Abraxas exchanged looks between each other. A new and prosperous era, indeed…

While the older men wasted no time in taking a drink, the three teenagers delayed a moment before joining them. Hermione’s lips had barely touched the liquid when a slight cough sounded. Pulling away from the glass, she looked up just in time to see the glass fall from Mr. Malfoy’s hand, shattering to the floor at his feet.

The coughing quickly became worse and worse until Mr. Malfoy sounded as though he was full on choking. Abandoning his own glass, Grindelwald rushed over to his follower’s side, pulling his wand out and pointing it at the choking man’s neck, as if preparing to do some sort of healing spell.

With his back turned, Tom was left with the perfect opportunity to strike. Silently she saw him mouth an incantation. Grindelwald’s wand promptly flew from his grasp and straight into Tom’s outstretched hand. Tom grinned triumphantly. By the laws of succession, he was now the rightful owner of the fabled Elder Wand.

Mr. Malfoy’s suffering was soon forgotten as Grindelwald slowly rose from his crouched position, turning to face them, his expression unreadable save for the coldness in his eyes.

“This was a trap… I see now that I underestimated you. You have far more potential than I initially thought,” Grindelwald stated. “It’s a shame… You would have made a truly superb second-in-command.”

“I’m afraid that just isn’t my style. I prefer to be in control myself.”

He nodded his head in understanding. “Yes, I see much of myself in you. You are destined to achieve great things, there is no doubt about it.”

The two rivals stood staring at one another for some time. Hermione wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. It was almost as if the two were having some sort of silent unseen battle in their minds.

“If you’re unwilling to submit yourself to my leadership, then perhaps you would agree to join me as my equal,” he offered. “Think of all the things we could accomplish if we worked together.”

Lowering his newly acquired wand slightly, Tom started to take a step towards him, and for a moment, Hermione thought he might actually accept. However, she ought not to have feared such. Things started to happen at an alarmingly fast rate. Before she could even comprehend what was going on, the two of them were holding each other at wand point, Grindelwald having swiped Mr. Malfoy’s wand from his cane.

A battle broke out not too long after, Hermione and Abraxas joining in. Masks were discarded. Spells were fired this way and that across the room, shattering many of Mr. Malfoy’s priceless artifacts. No one seemed to care about the damage. In fact, Hermione made a conscious effort to make sure the werewolf skull in particular was destroyed.

They all knew that the odds were in their favor. It was three against one. Grindelwald himself must have surely known that his odds of winning were slim, but still he persisted in fighting back.

Tom pulled back from the fight after a while, staggering backward as if from exhaustion. While he pretended to catch his breath, Hermione and Abraxas kept him busy, continuing to fire spells at him. Grindelwald was strong and agile, but he was not without weakness. He was so focused on the process of blocking and casting spells that he failed to notice Tom disappear from before his own eyes, reappearing only feet behind him.

“Avada Kedavra!”

A green bolt shot out of the end of Tom’s wand, bathing the study in an eerie glow. At exactly the right moment, the spell hit Grindelwald in the back. Hermione and Abraxas ceased their firing, taking a step back as they watched Grindelwald’s body seize up in pain, a howl of pain ripping from his throat as his body fell to the ground.

They just stood there for the first few moments, their eyes trained on the fallen dark wizard.

Their plan had worked… Grindelwald was defeated…

Now that it was over, they were left with time to reflect on all that had just gone down. Tom’s gaze fell to the wand in his hands, taking the chance to fully examine it for the first time. The awe was evident in his eyes.

Meanwhile, Abraxas slipped over to his father’s body, which had since gone stiff, the sounds of choking and coughing long stopped. He too was dead.

“What exactly happened to him? I know the plan was to distract Grindelwald, but… was his death part of the plan?” Hermione asked.

Abraxas nodded, staring at his father with a mix of hatred and sorrow. “I anticipated that he would want to make a toast and ordered Dobby to slip a vial of basilisk venom into his glass.”

Hermione gasped. It made sense now… That was why Tom had taken her down to the Chamber of Secrets… It also explained Dobby’s squeamish behavior. The poor house elf had been ordered to murder it’s own master… Knowing what she did of the Dobby from the future, she could only imagine how Dobby must be feeling. He was probably trying to find ways to punish himself at that very moment.

“Y-You wanted to murder your own father?”

Abraxas turned to look at her with tear filled eyes. “All I ever wanted was to make him love me… to make him proud of me… but there was never enough room in his heart! His only love was Grindelwald, or at least what he represented...”

Hermione knew this to be true. Mr. Malfoy was by no means necessary a good father. At times he would pretend that he cared, but when it came right down to it, it was only because he thought he could get something out of it.

“I’ve tried so hard to stop caring, to stop trying to live up to his expectations these past years, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop loving him!” he continued. “I finally realized that the only way I would ever escape his shadow was if he died… so I killed him!”

Hermione didn’t know what to say to that. She hadn’t known that he felt that way. Though, she probably should have. With all the times he had talked about his father…

_“According to my father…”_

_“My father said…”_

_“My father thinks…”_

Hermione couldn’t help but be reminded of a boy who had once been known to say similar things.

_“Wait until my father hears about this.”_

_“My father will hear about this!”_

It would seem that Abraxas was more like Draco than she thought.

Without even thinking, she began to step towards him and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Abraxas clung to her tightly, his whole body shaking as he broke down crying. She didn’t say a word, knowing that there was not a single word she could say to comfort him. What he had done wasn’t good, but seeing him in such a pitiful state, she found that she couldn’t bring herself to hate him for it. She just stood there and hugged him, letting him cry it all out.

The more time she spent getting to know the young purebloods, the more she came to realize just how deprived of love they were.

Eventually he ran out of tears, and his sobbing stopped. He pulled away, refusing to meet her gaze as he went to retrieve his mask.

“We should probably go announce our victory to the guests downstairs. They’re probably wondering what happened to their host and guest of honor.”

They nodded in agreement. Levitating Grindelwald’s body into mid air, they started back down the secret passageway without another word. Grindelwald may be dead, but they still had a room full of Grindelwald’s supporters to deal with.

It was going to be a long night.


	32. Changes

In the months to come, news of Grindelwald’s defeat at the hands of a group of mere students had spread far and wide. Not everyone was pleased with the news, mind you. There were still those who had supported Grindelwald that weren’t too pleased with them, but after their demonstration at the Christmas Ball, in which many of Grindelwald’s closest supporters had lost their lives trying to avenge him, they knew not to try anything.

The Ministry had been among the first to hear. It was a real surprise when the Minister for Magic himself, Leonard Spencer-Moon, came knocking at their door, notifying them that they were each to be awarded First Class Order of Merlin. Hermione was shocked to say the least, and honestly didn’t know what to say, but eventually accepted all the same.

The ceremony had taken place about a week later at the Ministry. Some of the most powerful and influential witches and wizards were present, much to Tom’s pleasure. Everyone was eager to speak with the young heroes, especially the journalists and photographers from the Daily Prophet. They weren’t as terrible as Rita Skeeter, thank Merlin she wasn’t even alive yet, but they were still a nuisance. 

Things were different when they returned to school in January as they were greeted with a hero's welcome. It seemed there wasn’t a student who hadn’t heard what they did. Everywhere they went, people would congratulate them on their achievement, some even asking for their autograph. They had become real celebrities throughout the school. Even among the teachers. Slughorn in particular did not hesitate to draw further attention to their heroic deed.

One of the only teachers who didn’t draw attention to them was Dumbledore. In fact, he often attempted to do quite the opposite. Their Transfiguration Professor had taken to keeping an extra close eye on them, particularly Tom. Hermione couldn’t help but notice how his face paled one day when he caught sight of Tom wielding the Elder Wand. It seemed to make him uneasy, as he cut class short that day.

While Tom and the rest of the Knights of Walpurgis thrived off of the praise and attention they received, Hermione found it overbearing and did her best to stay out of the limelight. It wasn’t the first time she had been subject to such attention, having been well known as Harry Potter’s best friend. She soon rediscovered that it wasn’t all that it cracked up to be.

She remembered all the pain it brought in her original fourth year. All the lies that Rita Skeeter had spun about Harry and her. They had turned many people against them, even people that they had considered close friends. The last thing she wanted was for that to happen to her again, so she shunned photographs, ignored autographs, refused interviews and attempted to focus as much as she could on her schoolwork.

It was late one evening when Hermione slipped once more from her dormitory and off into the darkened school, as had become a regular occurrence by now, making her way stealthily towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

She passed by Tom, who was on patrol as Head Boy that evening. Somehow Tom was always able to sense her, despite being disillusioned. She didn’t quite know how he was able to, but she didn’t really care enough to question it. Letting the disillusionment drop, she reappeared before him.

“Off to see your grandfather?” he asked.

She nodded. “And hopefully catch up on the last bit of homework,” she explained. “I still have an essay that I wasn’t able to complete because of everyone hounding me with questions and autographs.”

He nodded in understanding. “Try not to stay up too late. It wouldn’t do to have you falling asleep in class.”

She rolled her eyes. As if she would. In all the time she had been at Hogwarts, and that was a lot, all things considered, she had never once fallen asleep in class. She wasn’t about to break that record now.

Still, she knew that he was merely concerned for her well being. She smiled up at him appreciatively. “Don’t worry. Professor Renshaw will make sure I don’t stay up all night.”

And then, sharing a quick kiss, they parted ways.

Hermione didn’t bother with disillusioning herself again, as she wasn’t far from the classroom. After a quick glance around, ensuring that no one else was around, she slipped into the classroom.

Professor Renshaw was actually seated at his desk in his classroom for once, much to her surprise. He usually preferred to spend his nights relaxing with a bit of music and a goblet of blood.

“It would seem you’ve created quite the reputation for yourself, Hermione,” Renshaw addressed her without looking up from the papers on his desk. “I don’t believe there has been a day since school resumed in which your achievements have not been brought up in conversation.”

Hermione let out a sigh as she took a seat at one of the very front desks, setting her supplies down.

“Yes, it’s most unnerving. I never realized just how much I valued my own personal space until now.”

Renshaw let out a small low chuckle, but said nothing more.

Seeing that he was busy working on something, Hermione got straight to work on her own essay. 

The essay in particular was for Ancient Runes, a class that she believed might serve her well in the pursuits of Alchemy. She had already chosen which particular rune to do her essay on, and had gathered a few books for necessary research, so it didn’t actually take her that long to write.

Within an hour and a half she was finished, and so had Professor Renshaw. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she saw that it was nearly midnight already. She knew she should probably head back and try to get some sleep, but she wasn’t ready to yet.

There was something she wanted to talk to him about… something that only he would fully understand.

“Does it ever go away?” she asked. “The guilt that comes with knowing you took the life of another?”

He considered her fully, a hint of sorrow in his dark eyes as he carefully considered her question. “Not entirely, no.”

That was what she had been afraid of.

The events that took place at the Christmas Ball had left an impact, not just on her, but on all three of them. It was only natural. No matter how justified their reasons might have been for doing so, they had caused the death of many people that night, a few even by their own hands. In the rush of the moment she hadn’t felt much of anything, but later, once she had allowed herself to calm down and her mind was able to fully process everything, it hit her full force. Her hands were stained with blood.

Abraxas quite possibly suffered with the after effects the most. He was burdened with the fact that he had killed his own father, something that his mother reminded him of on a near daily basis. As was to be expected, Mrs. Malfoy was heartbroken and furious, unable to look upon her son without breaking down screaming and crying. Hermione could see how haunted he was by it, but there was nothing she could do to lift his burden. He had brought this upon himself. She only hoped Hera would be able to help him in some way.

And Tom… Well, she was pretty sure Grindelwald’s death at his hands had triggered something in him. He was a bit more jumpy than usual, reaching for his wand whenever something caught him off guard. She was relieved to find that he wasn’t completely unresponsive towards it all.

“I suppose I wasn’t as prepared for the mission as I thought.”

“No one is ever entirely prepared to take a life.”

His words didn’t remove the guilt from her heart, nor did she expect them to, but they did fill her with a certain sense of peace. He understood the feeling, probably better than she would ever know. It made her realize just how terrible the guilt and grief her grandfather felt must be.

Shaking her head from such depressing thoughts, she rose from the desk and went over to stand beside him by his desk. As if sensing what it was she wanted, no, needed, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side. She was taken by surprise at the gesture, as he had never allowed himself such gestures of affection, but she soon relaxed into the hug. It comforted her to know that Professor Renshaw had at least warmed up to her more over the years.

“What are you working on?” she asked, changing the topic as she glanced down at all the papers on his desk. They didn’t exactly look like homework.

“Ah, these are applications of possible candidates to replace me next year,” he explained, retracting his arm to tidy up the mess of papers. “The headmaster has presented me with the task of choosing one.”

“You’re retiring?” her eyes widened.

“I’ve been meaning to do so for quite some time. I’ve only held off until now because of a certain relation of mine.” He gave her a knowing look.

Long had she suspected that he would retire. She assumed that was why she had never met him during her original six years at Hogwarts. It made her happy that he had stayed longer for her sake, but still the thought of him leaving made her sad. This would be their last year at Hogwarts, meaning that these late night sessions with her grandfather would come to an end. The thought made her heart ache.

“What will you do?”

“I’m not entirely sure yet,” he admitted. “What about you? I hear that Slughorn has great hopes for you.”

“Actually, I intend to take a year off after graduation to travel and broaden my knowledge of this world,” she explained.

He raised a single thick brow. “I suppose Riddle will be going with you.” He didn’t even try to hide his distaste at the idea.

Hermione giggled, rolling her eyes at him. Here he was playing the role of protective father once again. It wasn’t so much that he disliked Tom, but rather that he had an old fashioned view on romance and how it should be carried out.

“Tom will be staying in Britain. Now that Grindelwald has been defeated and he has the Elder Wand in his possession, his next task is infiltrating the Ministry. He wants me to stay and help him, but… I have my own agenda.”

“Surely you don’t intend to travel on your own?” he insisted. “There is no denying that you are a powerful young witch, but that does not make the world any safer. There are those who would think nothing of attacking you.”

She knew that he was most likely referring to his own kind. As touched as she was that he feared for her safety, she wasn’t particularly worried.

“Well, you could always join me. That way you could make sure I’m not in any such danger,” she suggested with a smirk.

He seemed to ponder it for a few moments, glancing over to meet her gaze every now and then before retracting it again.

“No, I shouldn’t,” he shook his head. “I would only hinder your travels, what with my nocturnal lifestyle.”

Ah, yes… She had forgotten about that… They wouldn’t be able to travel during the day. 

“That’s okay. I’ve heard that Paris is more beautiful at night anyway.”

He gave her a strange look, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, that she was actually alright with the idea. It would make things a bit more difficult, not to mention different, but she was willing to change her plans to fit his lifestyle.

“You would be willing to travel with a vampire?”

She shot him a warning glare. “I don’t care if you’re a vampire or not. You’re my grandfather and the only family I have left. I wouldn’t have even suggested it if I wasn’t willing.”

He let out a sigh, bringing a hand up to run through his thick dark locks. He was conflicted, though she could see a flicker of longing as well.

“Alright, I shall agree to accompany you on your travels,” he relented at last. “I can think of a few locations in which I might not mind revisiting.”

She smiled with satisfaction. She had hoped that he would agree. With any luck she would be able to convince him to remain in permanent contact with her after Hogwarts. She wasn’t about to let him slip off into the shadows, disappearing from her life once more.

“I look forward to visiting them with you.”


	33. Graduation

The End-of-Year Feast was always a bittersweet occasion, as it marked the end of another school year. This year was even more so for Hermione, as it was the last one she would ever attend as a student. It was the last feast she would eat with all of her friends surrounding her. Not only that, but it was the only occasion in which the Headmaster would bend the rules and allow students from the different houses to sit at whichever table they pleased.

Because this was her last feast, Hermione chose not to go and sit with her usual group of friends at the Slytherin Table, instead going to join Hagrid at the Gryffindor’s. Tom, pushing aside his less than amiable feelings towards the rival house, went and joined them. As you can imagine, the Gryffindor’s were all rather shocked by this, and stared at them for the first little while.

Hermione didn’t do much better. It felt strange being back at the Gryffindor Table after so many years of sitting on the other side of the hall. Her mind swirled with memories of discussions with Harry and Ron, of Ron stuffing his face most meals, of Harry discussing plans with them, be it quidditch or Voldemort related. The fact that Fleamont Potter was sitting not too far away, glancing over at her from time to time certainly didn’t help either.

“It’s not going ter be the same without yeh here, Hermione,” sniffed Hagrid, who wiped his tear filled eyes on the arm of his jacket. “I’m goin ter miss yeh.”

She smiled up at him, reaching out to give him an affectionate pat on the shoulder. “I’ll miss you too, Hagrid, but I’m sure our paths will cross again one day.”

He nodded his head in agreement, managing a weak smile.

Hermione was admittedly a bit worried about him, knowing that he didn’t exactly have many friends aside from her. However, at the same time, she had hope for him. He had made it this far and hadn’t been expelled. With any luck he would graduate for himself in a few years time.

“Would you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“Make an effort to be nice to Myrtle Warren of Ravenclaw. The other girls in her house have been bullying her mercilessly and she could use a good friend like you.”

Turning around, he sought out the Ravenclaw table until he found the girl with pigtails and glasses. She wasn’t too hard to spot. As always, she was seated alone, picking at her food. No one else at the table seemed to notice. They were all too busy with their own respective friend groups.

Hagrid’s eyes softened at the sight of her. “What a shame,” he mumbled. “Pretty thing like ‘er.”

Hermione couldn’t suppress the urge to smirk. The idea had come to her on the spur of the moment. Who better to understand Myrtle and what she was going through than Hagrid? And there was no doubt in her mind that he would be more than capable of sticking up for her.

“Why don’t you go over there right now and introduce yourself?” Hermione suggested.

Hagrid hesitated for a moment, glancing back and forth between her and Myrtle. After a few moments, he climbed from his seat, bumping his thick knees against the table as he rose, and taking a deep breath, picked up his plate of food and went to go join the lonely Ravenclaw girl.

“When did you become such a matchmaker?” Tom gave her a knowing look.

Hermione just shrugged. “What can I say? I like seeing people happy.”

He rolled his eyes at her, a smirk tugging slightly at the corner of his lips. “As annoying as it may be at times, you are good at that.”

Most of the students, Hermione included, didn’t get much sleep that night, preferring to stay up late with their roommates to have one last night full of fun with their friends. As eager as Hermione was to move on with her life, there were still things that she would miss at Hogwarts. She knew she might never again get a chance to have a sleepover with friends.

Their departure from Hogwarts was something she had heard of but never experienced herself. Climbing into the same boats they had arrived in seven years prior, which now seemed oddly smaller than she remembered, they began their ride back across the lake and to the train station.

For one final time, her and her friends all climbed into their compartment, reflecting on all the memories they had made together. There were both good and bad. Hermione couldn’t help but feel a bit sad that Druella wasn’t with them to share in this milestone, but she didn’t let it get to her too much, reassuring herself with the fact that she would be able to go and visit her whenever she wanted from then on.

“I suppose we should probably remove the jinx,” Hermione stated.

Everyone nodded in agreement, though they didn’t exactly seem too thrilled by the prospect. Combining their abilities, they worked together to remove the jinx from the compartment. It didn’t seem fair to leave it so, especially when there was usually limited space on the Hogwarts Express to begin with.

“Maybe we could leave our mark in a different way,” Abraxas suggested.

“What do you mean?” Cygnus asked.

“We could engrave our initials somewhere or even the name of our gang,” Abraxas explained. “We’re already famous, and I figure we’re only going to become more so in the years to come. ”

“Yes, and someday our own children might be riding together in this very same compartment. It would be a nice memento to leave behind for them,” Hera added.

Abraxas cringed at the mention. It was clear that he wasn’t quite ready to even think about becoming a father, especially not so soon after the demise of his own.

“It would take up far too much space to engrave all our names, but it wouldn’t hurt to let people know that this compartment once belonged to the Knights of Walpurgis,” Tom agreed.

Hermione shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

And so, it was agreed. After searching every inch of the compartment, they settled on a spot that, while not directly hidden, wasn’t exactly in plain sight either. With their wands, they engraved the name of their group, with a snake coiling around the words. Anyone who knew of them would surely know what it meant.

Settling back in for the remainder of the train ride, they shared with one another their immediate plans.

Cygnus was heading back to the Black Manor. Now that he had graduated from school, he was deemed eligible and of age to take over the running of the house. He was looking forward to being able to live in relative peace with his wife and daughter, free from his scheming mother, who would be moving in with his sister, Walburga and her husband.

Rosaline was, of course, planning to go and visit her beau in France as soon as she could manage. The two had gotten engaged over Christmas, and Rosaline was relentless in gushing about her high hopes for the wedding. Despite the fact that they weren’t all that close, or at least Hermione didn’t think so, Rosaline had asked her to be one of her bridesmaids. Hermione accepted regardless, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

Abraxas had a lot to do back at Malfoy Manor. With his mother gone, having fled the country to go and stay with her brother’s family, there was no one left to help him with the running of the estate. Hera had offered to help him, but there was only so much she could do.

“What about you, Tom?” Cygnus asked in turn. “Do you think you can survive a year without Hermione?”

Tom rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in front of him. “Don’t be foolish. It’s not like I won’t see her at all. She’s coming back to spend the holidays with me.”

Cygnus snickered. “If you say so.”

Once at the train station, they parted ways, saying their goodbyes. They would still see each other from time to time, and remain in contact, but it wouldn’t be as often as before. Hermione was struck by the fact that they were each going off to begin lives of their own. Whatever path stood before them, Hermione had hope that they each had a bright future.

The Riddle’s were there waiting for them in the crowded train station. Mary immediately came forward to give her and Tom each a hug.

“We are so proud of you, Tom,” Mary exclaimed. “I may not know much about the wizarding world, but I am sure that graduating from school is just as much a milestone as it is in our world.”

“Thank you, Grandmother.”

Taking them all by surprise, Tom Sr. stepped forward and reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. “Well done, my son.”

Hermione could practically feel the waves of joy emanating from Tom. Such praise coming from his father meant more to him than he would probably ever admit. It was long overdue, but he had finally gained the love and respect of his father. If there had been any doubt left in her mind about leaving Tom to his own devices, they had now vanished into thin air.

“Well, I guess this is it then.”

As if only just then remembering, he turned to her with a solemn expression. She could see the sorrow in his eyes, silently begging her to stay with him.

“Are you not coming back with us?” Mary asked.

Hermione shook her head. “No, my grandfather is sending a car to take me to his house in Prestbury,” she explained. “I’ll be traveling abroad with him for a year. Though, I’m hoping to come back to visit for Christmas, if that’s alright.”

“Of course, Hermione. You’re always welcome at Riddle Manor.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Riddle. You and your family have been very kind.”

Taking Tom’s luggage off to load it into the car, the Riddle’s left to give the two a bit of much needed privacy.

Neither spoke, seemingly content to just stare at each other. It wasn’t by far the first time such a thing had occurred. Cygnus always swore that they were able to communicate telepathically.

Then, all of a sudden, Tom reached out, took her in his arms and pulled her close, capturing her lips in his own. Hermione let out a bit of a startled yelp, as the impact threatened to knock her off balance, but she soon regained her footing in Tom’s strong embrace, melting into the kiss. She could feel the stares of passing students and their scandalized parents, but Hermione couldn’t bring herself to care. She would be separated from her boyfriend for months possibly and she wanted to make this kiss last as long as she could.

Pulling back, he reached out to cup her face. “I don’t want to let you go,” he admitted.

“I know you don’t, but I want to do this. Besides, I imagine you’ll be so busy straightening out the ministry that the time will just fly by. We’ll be back together in no time.”

He nodded his head. “I’ll try to owl you as often as I can with updates on what’s going on. Abroad or not, you are still the queen of the operation. I may ask for your opinion on certain topics.”

“Are you sure you want my opinion? If I had my way, I would have you issue a law to ban the enslavement of house elves.”

He chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Their time soon came to an end, as Thomas began complaining that his arthritis was acting up again. Tom and Hermione rolled their eyes. They both knew that was just an excuse to get them to hurry up. He was not a patient man. It was a trait that seemed to run in the family.

“I’ll write to you as soon as I arrive at my first destination.”

And with that, they too parted ways. Tom climbed into the Riddle’s Rolls-Royce. Hermione stayed and watched as the car drove away from the station, waving to Tom as it went. It was only after they were gone from view that she turned her trolley around and went off in search of her grandfather’s car.

“Miss Granger?” asked an old bald man, coming up to her. She nodded. “Your grandfather sent me to deliver you to him. If you’ll just follow me, we’ll be on our way.”

Letting him take the trolley from her, Hermione followed him through the crowd. The sight of the car made her shake her head. Her grandfather had sent a hearse for her! Could he be any less obvious? Though, she supposed it was a fitting car for him, seeing as it allowed him to take his coffin with him. Either way, at least she didn’t have to worry about a lack of space for her luggage as the old man, presumably the driver, began loading everything into the back.

She let out a small chuckle. If only Tom had stuck around long enough to see this.


	34. Travels (Part One)

It was nearing nightfall by the time they reached their destination, and despite the fact that the sun had all but set as they pulled up the driveway, Hermione could still see the exterior of the house well enough.

Much like the nearby village, it too was built in the Tudor style with stone masonry on the lower level and half timber of the upper level. The windows were all fitted with stained glass. The house itself was surrounded by acres and acres of sprawling trees, a testament to the past occupation of the house’s former owners.

“Welcome to Renshaw House, Miss Granger,” said the elderly driver seated beside her. She had since learnt that his name was Baldwin Munch.

Hermione smiled from ear to ear. It was only the first time she had laid eyes on the place, yet in her heart she felt as though she had known the place all her life. She couldn’t explain why, but it just felt right… like she actually belonged… That was a feeling she hadn’t truly felt in the last seven years.

The hearse came to a halt in front of the modest-sized house. Baldwin climbed out and hurried around to open the passenger door for her before going to unload her luggage from the back. Noticing that the elderly man was struggling with the load, she went over and lessened the load, grabbing a suitcase and Grimalkin’s carrier.

Leading her up to the front door, Hermione was surprised when the door opened all on it’s own. She glanced over at the driver. He didn’t seem to be taken back by it. Could it be that he had done so himself? She wasn’t sure if he was a muggle or wizard, but judging from the fact that he worked for her grandfather, she could only assume that he had at least some knowledge of magic.

A moment passed before Baldwin shuffled in, turning to walk in sideways as the luggage in his hands didn’t quite fit the other way. Hermione entered after him. No sooner were they inside, then the door promptly closed just the same as it had opened. Hermione raised a brow. She was pretty sure Baldwin hadn’t caused this. He had been busy setting her luggage down when it happened. Unless he was skilled enough to perform silent wandless magic.

A chill filled the air just then, alerting Hermione of her grandfather’s presence. Looking up, she saw her former professor descending the staircase. No longer required to wear the wizard robes he wore as a professor, he had changed into something a bit more ordinary; a plain white shirt and black trousers with a matching tie and vest. She eyed the outfit approvingly. It appeared that, unlike some hopeless wizards, her grandfather actually knew how to dress to blend in with muggles.

“I’ve brought your granddaughter safe and sound, as promised, Master,” said Baldwin with a slight bow.

“Thank you, Baldwin. You may retire for the night.”

And with that, Baldwin shuffled off out of the room, disappearing down a darkened hallway, leaving Hermione alone with her grandfather.

“I take it your trip was pleasant?” he asked.

“I was a bit sad to part ways with all my friends, especially Tom,” she admitted. “However, I know I’ll see them all again.”

She couldn’t help but notice that her grandfather seemed rather uncomfortable. His posture was rigid, even more so than usual, and every now and then his eyes would dart elsewhere.

“Are you alright?”

He nodded his head. “Forgive me for being a bit on edge. I have not returned to this house since before I was married. It holds some… less than pleasant memories.”

She could understand that. From what she could recall him telling her, he hadn’t left home on the best of terms, what with his parents being disappointed in him for abandoning the family trade.

The sound of meowing and clawing at the carrier door brought her back to reality. Setting the carrier down on the floor with the rest of her luggage, she unlocked and pulled open the door, reaching in to scoop the fluffy black cat into her arms.

“This is my cat, Grimalkin,” she introduced. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought him with me. I would have left him with the Riddle’s, but Tom isn’t too fond of him. He’s more of a snake person.”

“No, I don’t mind. He wouldn’t be the first cat to take up residence in this house.”

Reaching out a spidery hand out, he held it a few inches away from Grim’s face, watching as the cat picked up his head and sniffed it. Seemingly pleased with what he smelled, Grim then proceeded to lick his fingers.

Hermione smiled. It was good to see that Grim was getting along with her grandfather. Cats were a great judge of character, as had been proven by Crookshanks with the Scabbers fiasco. If Grim liked him, then that meant he was a good person.

“Well, I’d best show you to your room,” he said after a while. “I’m sure you’re tired from your journey.”

Retracting his hand, he turned and headed back towards the winder staircase, levitating her luggage to follow him. Hermione followed shortly after.

* * *

Hermione remained at Renshaw House for a week in order to get used to the nocturnal lifestyle she would have to live for the next year or so. As with most transitions, it wasn’t easy at first, but after a while it started to become gradually easier. By the time it came for them to depart, she was fairly confident in her progress.

Their first destination was America, a place that neither Hermione nor Kieran had been to before, making it a completely new experience. The country was still recovering from the recently ended war. Bombing sites were being cleared and houses were being rebuilt. Certain foods were still being rationed, but with the promise of the products coming back into full stock, things were starting to look up.

They made their home in a two bedroom townhouse in Uptown New York that they rented for a couple of months. It was homey and comfortable, and reminded Hermione a bit of her childhood home back in London. Kieran promised to go with her to see if her future house still existed once they returned to Britain.

All things considered, America was a lot of fun. The two of them browsed through almost every museum they could find. Hermione made a point to take lots of pictures with the muggle camera she had gotten from the Riddle’s for Christmas the previous year. One of her favorite photos was of Kieran visiting with the mummy of a priest who served under Pharaoh Thutmose I. Kieran made a new friend that day. It made sense, seeing as they were both creatures of the undead.

They made a trip over to Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry one evening, and were given a tour of the school by the Headmistress herself, who in turn told them of the school’s history as well as it’s founders. Hermione was surprised to discover that one of the founders of Ilvermorny, Isolt Sayre, was actually a distant relative of Tom’s, through her mother and wicked aunt, Gormlaith Gaunt.

“I’ve heard stories of Grindelwald’s defeat at the hands of your Tom Riddle,” said the headmistress. “I admit I am concerned about his possession of the Elder Wand. He is a Gaunt after all.”

Hermione shook her head. “Don’t be. Tom is as much a Gaunt as Isolt was. Besides, he’s a half-blood, who I might add, has a relatively good relationship with his muggle father and grandparents.”

“I see.”

That seemed to put the headmistress at ease, as she raised the subject no more after that.

However, it did trigger a bit of concern in Hermione’s mind as a result. She hadn’t really thought about it before, as she had been focused on graduating and what not, but now that she was, she realized that it was risky. In her original time, Voldemort had taken the wand from Dumbledore’s grave, or so she had heard. She supposed it was a bit dangerous for the most powerful wand ever made to be in the hands of one of the most powerful wizards to ever live.

Not only that, but Tom was, unknowingly, in the possession of two out of three of the Deathly Hallows. She wasn’t entirely certain, but she had a hunch that the black stone in Gaunt Family Ring was actually the Resurrection Stone. He had these powerful artifacts at his disposal. Should he start to turn to darkness, it would be all too easy for him to inflict some real damage.

She shook such thoughts from her head. She had kept a careful watch over Tom these past years and had never seen reason to believe he was turning evil. He knew how she felt about the idea of him turning into a dark wizard. He was ambitious, yes, but so was she. She trusted him.

They stayed and talked with the headmistress some more. She even offered Kieran a teaching position within her school. Kieran was a bit taken back by the offer, but turned it down, claiming that he was tired of teaching for the time being, though he did promise to keep her offer in mind in the future.

Seeing that Kieran had never been to see a movie, Hermione saw fit to rectify that and dragged him to the nearest cinema. It just so happened that ‘Sherlock Holmes: The Woman in Green’ was playing, and Hermione was so excited at the prospect of watching a movie based on her favorite detective novels when it first came out.

They had to sit in the back, mostly because of Kieran’s advanced hearing, but the movie was still quite enjoyable. Even Kieran seemed to like it, once his ears got used to the volume. For the hour duration of the film, Hermione felt like a normal human girl, sitting in a crowded theatre with a bucket of buttery popcorn on her lap, with her grandfather seated beside her. It was almost surreal.

She felt a bit bad about the fact that Tom wasn’t with her to experience this with her, but she reassured herself that perhaps she could bring him with her next time. She didn’t know what the future had in store for her, but if she had any say in the matter, this wouldn’t be the last time she travelled.

Though there were so many things she would have liked to do in America, she knew she couldn’t do them all, and instead chose to categorize which she wanted to do the most.

Her last stop in America was to visit a Reservation of Native American Witches and Wizards. She had read about their outstanding skills as Animagi and was thrilled to see actual demonstrations as well as hear their side of the outlandish legend of the skin-walkers. Their distrust of muggles, or no-maj’s, as the American’s called them, ran deep, and no amount of her insisting that not all of them were bad would change their mind. She chose not to press the matter much more.

Despite their differing opinions, the Native Americans treated her well, as she did as well. The Chief’s wife, Maiara, even offered to teach her how to become an animagus herself. The offer was extremely tempting, as she had thought about trying to become one in her original time, but had always held off, knowing how risky the process was. She didn’t want to end up looking like a half-animal, half-human hybrid again. She thanked her for the offer but politely turned it down.

“I hope that you will remember our hospitality,” said the tribal chief as she prepared to leave. “Know that you are always welcome in our tribe.”

Hermione bowed in respect. “Thank you. I will put in a good word for you with Tom when I return home. If anyone can help your voice to be heard in the Ministry, it’s him.”

* * *

Their next destination was Hawaii. In theory, Hawaii wasn’t the best place to take a vampire, as the sun was even more powerful and the temperature sweltering. As a result, Kieran was forced to hide away in his coffin for even longer than usual, leaving Hermione to go out and explore the chain of islands whenever she wanted.

Hermione chose to visit Tahiti for sentimental reasons. It wasn’t actually the first time she had ever visited the place. Her parents had taken her there on holiday once when she was five-years old for some sort of dentist retreat. She had fond memories of the place; the warm golden sand running through her fingers as she attempted to build a sandcastle with her dad, playing in the water with both her parents, watching the sunset over the volcano.

It seemed only right that she should go back and experience it again as an adult, especially with the only family she had left.

Despite the sun’s extra power, Hermione managed to get Kieran out of his coffin to go swimming once.

“I look ridiculous. We both look ridiculous,” Kieran grumbled, crossing his arms in front of his bare chest as he stood at the very edge of the water. “I don’t care if the heat is unbearable. It’s simply improper to show so much skin. We’re practically naked!”

Hermione rolled her eyes as she waded out, letting out a sigh of relief as her skin came into contact with the refreshing salt water. She had purchased swimsuits for them from one of the local shops. For her, a colorful, floral print two piece with a skirt, and for him a pair of high-waisted, navy blue swim trunks.

“I’ll admit, this style of swimwear is a bit strange, but it’s not nearly as bad as what people wear swimming in the 1990’s,” she said.

He shuddered. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

It took a while before he was willing to venture out with her again. She even managed to get a nice tan while they were there, something that she hadn’t had for a while. Seven years living in the Slytherin Dungeons had seemed to drain the color from her skin. It was nice to have her healthy golden brown coloring back.

Towards the end of their time there, she got him out one last time to hike up a volcano with her. He didn’t mind this too much, as he had never actually seen a volcano before, let alone one that was active. Luckily for them it didn’t erupt that day. They even managed to get their guide to take a picture of them near the edge.

While Hermione smiled straight at the camera, Kieran couldn’t help but glance back nervously.

“Blasted Gryffindor’s and their bravery,” he mumbled. “Why do I always let them talk me into such dangerous situations?”

Hermione just laughed. He had a point. Maybe there was some Gryffindor left in her after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all had a good Christmas! I'm sorry for my absence. I assure you that me and my family are safe and healthy. I was just taking a break to do some other stuff. Anyway, I hope you enjoy part one of Hermione and Renshaw's travels. I quite enjoyed writing this chapter :)
> 
> Anyway, Happy New Year!


	35. Home for Christmas

Feeling bad about her grandfather’s struggles with the sun in Hawaii, she chose Greenland as their next location. Going from a naturally hot climate to a cold climate might not have been the best idea either though, as Hermione came down with a fever soon after and couldn’t do much exploring for the first week. 

However, the circumstances did give her a chance to witness Kieran’s more paternal side, as he took up the responsibility of caring for her, even drawing any and all curtains tightly closed in order so that he could care for her during the day as well. It almost felt like she was back home, having her own dad caring for her. It was nice.

Their next destination after that was Ireland, as it was the homeland of Kieran’s mother’s side of the family. They toured old historic sites, including the ruins of ancient castles, and even stumbled across a few magical creatures. It took Hermione by surprise when she came across a creature she had never seen before; a dark skeletal horse with wings.

“What is it?” Hermione asked.

“That is a Thestral,” Kieran explained. “It is a creature that can only be seen by those who have witnessed death.”

As beautiful as the horse was, the realization of the fact that she could see it hit her quite hard. She hadn’t seen much death in her life. The only death she had truly witnessed was that of Grindelwald, and of Mr. Malfoy she supposed. They weren’t exactly death’s that she mourned or anything, but still…

They remained there until December when they returned home for Christmas.

The original plan had been to return a week before Christmas, but with being so close to begin with, they decided to return a week early. Hermione wrote ahead to Mrs. Riddle to let her know they were coming, as well as to ask her not to tell Tom ahead of time. Mary assured her that it wouldn’t be a problem. Apparently Tom was busy at work most days, and basically headed straight up to bed when he got home.

That suited Hermione perfectly.

Baldwin dropped her off at Riddle Manor at half past six. She had offered to wait until evening so that Kieran could come as well, but he refused, giving the reason that he needed to replenish his blood supply. It was probably for the best that he didn’t come in that case. The Riddles had only just recently gotten used to the existence of witches and wizards. She didn’t think they were ready to meet a vampire yet.

Climbing out of the passenger seat of her grandfather’s hearse, she was almost immediately greeted by Mary, who came rushing out to greet her.

“It’s good to see you again, dearie,” she said, pulling her in for a big hug. “I’ve missed you so much. It hasn’t been the same without you.”

Hermione hugged her back, soaking in the warmth and comfort that Mrs. Riddle’s hugs always brought. “I’ve missed you too.”

She hadn’t realized it until she went off on her travels, but the Riddles had become like family to her as well.

Once Baldwin had her luggage unloaded, he bid his farewell to the ladies, and drove off. Mrs. Riddle wasted no time in calling one of her own servants to come and help with her luggage, before pulling Hermione inside.

She barely had time to take her coat and shoes off before Mary started leading her into the downstairs drawing room where both Thomas and Tom Sr. were seated. Hermione noted that they had already decorated the room for the holidays, complete with stockings hanging from the fireplace and a big fully-decorated Christmas tree in the corner of the room, with a fair sized stack of presents already gathered underneath.

Hermione made a mental note to add the presents she had bought for everyone a bit later.

“Ah, welcome back, Miss Granger,” Thomas greeted her, folding the newspaper he had been reading and setting it off to the side.

“Tom should be happy now that you’re back,” remarked Tom Sr. “He’s been working himself to the bone ever since you left.”

Well, it wasn’t good that he was working himself to the bone, as Tom Sr. put it, but at least he was keeping busy. Surely he couldn’t have gotten up to too much mischief then.

“You must tell us about your travels,” Mary insisted, pulling Hermione to sit down on the Sofa with her. “Where did you go? Did you have fun? From the looks of it, you were somewhere warm.”

Hermione told them about all of the places she had gone and what she had done while she was there. The Riddles listened with intrigue as they waited. Of course, there were some magical aspects of her travels that she purposefully left out, not wanting to frighten them too much.

“Ah yes, Tom mentioned that you were in America,” Mary claimed. “There was an article about your visit to some school in the wizard newspaper.”

This took Hermione by surprise. The newspaper she was referring to was likely the Daily Prophet, as both her and Tom had subscriptions for it. However, she hadn’t been aware that an article had been made about her visit to Ilvermorny. Had one of the reporters been tailing her or something? She certainly hoped it wasn’t another Rita Skeeter case.

They talked for a good hour, hour or so, enjoying a cup of tea together while they waited, until the sound of the door opening and slamming shut, alerted them to Tom’s presence.

“Welcome home, Tom!” Mary called out.

Hermione heard something, a sound of acknowledgement, she assumed it to be, before she heard him climbing the stairs. He sounded like he was in a great mood.

“I’m sorry about him,” Mary apologized. “He’s often quite tired and grumpy when he gets back from work. Whatever he does at his workplace, it can’t be terribly pleasant.”

Hermione nodded her head in understanding. Unlike her, she had a solid grasp on what it was like working in the Ministry. It was the main reason she had foregone such a career herself. It sounded like a real pain.

Rising from her seat, Hermione thanked the Riddles for tea, and left to go see just how grumpy Tom really was, following his path up the stairs and down the hall, coming to a halt in front of his bedroom door. She stopped to listen for a moment, and heard the creaking of a bed. Mary wasn’t kidding. He really did head straight to bed.

She bit down on her lip, her hand hovering only inches from the door. Was now a good time? Should she really disturb him when he is so tired? Perhaps she should just go find her own bedroom and wait to surprise him in the morning when he would be more alert?

Despite her hesitation, her hand started to move, as if of it’s own will, and knocked on the door.

“Go away,” she heard Tom’s muffled voice call out from the other side.

Hermione couldn’t help but giggle as a wave of nostalgia overcame her. The situation was oddly reminiscent of the first time she came knocking on Tom’s door all those years ago at Wool’s Orphanage. Oh, how far they had come since then.

“I suppose I can just apparate back to my grandfather’s house, if that’s the way you want to be,” she said. “And here I thought I would try and surprise my boyfriend.”

The bed creaked again, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps. It didn’t even take a minute for the door to swing open, revealing a rather disheveled looking and wide-eyed Tom Riddle.

“Hi there,” she said, unable to keep the smile off her face as she took in his appearance. He usually took impeccably good care of himself, so it was almost funny to see him like this. “Miss me?”

He didn’t respond at first, as he just stood there staring at her as if she was a ghost. Then, after a few minutes, he seemed to come to, shaking himself from whatever trance he had been under. Before she could even fully grasp what was happening, he had pulled her into his arms, burying his face into her hair.

“You would never believe just how much I missed you,” Tom said at last.

Hermione was all too happy to wrap her arms around him in return, having longed to do so for the past months. He felt slightly cold to the initial touch, no doubt a lingering effect from having just come home, but he warmed quickly enough in her embrace. She let out a sigh, a sense of comfort and contentment washing over her. As much as she had enjoyed the time she had spent with her grandfather, she had missed Tom as well. More than she had initially realized.

“When did you arrive?” he asked.

“An hour ago,” she replied. “I’m sorry if I came at a bad time for you.”

He shook his head, pulling away from her a bit. “You could have woken me up in the middle of the night and I would have been just as happy to see you.”

Then, before she could say anything else, he reached out and claimed her lips, kissing her as if he was half-starved for affection, his tongue snaking its way into her mouth, eager to explore. Hermione melted into the kiss, adding her own pent up passion to his. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted from her chest, finally being able to let it out.

Without breaking the kiss, Tom started to pull the two of them back into his bedroom, closing the door behind them with his foot. Backed up against the side of the bed, Tom allowed himself to fall back onto the mattress, bringing her with him.

At first, they did nothing but roll around playfully, smiling and giggling like a pair of idiots. Their hands were all over, roaming up and down each other's bodies. Of course, as can be expected, this heated them up fairly quickly, forcing them to stop and lay back for a moment to calm their pounding hearts and wait for their stomach muscles, sore from laughing, to heal.

“I thought you were tired,” Hermione teased.

He smirked. “I was tired, exhausted even,” reaching out, he gently brushed a loose curl away from her face. “You must have cast some sort of rejuvenation spell on me.”

She rolled her eyes, knowing that she had done no such thing.

They just laid there and talked for a while, cuddled against one another. Tom told her about his job at the ministry. He worked as an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries, and while he wasn’t allowed to talk about what went on inside the department, he was able to tell her that the work was interesting, save for some co-workers who aggravated him to no end.

It didn’t really come as a surprise to her that he had chosen that particular department. It practically screamed ‘Tom Riddle’ with all of it’s powerful forbidden magic. Of course, she already knew all about the Department of Mysteries, having broken into it in her original fifth year.

In regards to his plan to rise up and take the ministry for his own, things seemed to be progressing nicely. He had managed to make a good impression of the Minister, earning his trust and respect. Apparently, it had been Leonard Spencer-Moon himself who had shown him around on his first day, and invited Tom to have lunch with him regularly. With any luck, his name would be high up on the list of candidates for the next election in a few years.

“I know you were hoping to wait until marriage, but do you think you could be persuaded to change your mind?” he asked, reaching up to stroke her cheek. “These past months have been torture without you, and now that I have you back, I don’t know if I can wait as you wanted.”

She knew exactly what he was talking about, and if she was completely honest, she wasn’t entirely sure if she could wait either. It hadn’t been so much that she was waiting until marriage, but just waiting for the right time in general. Having been gone for months at a time, with many more months yet to come, she felt that now might be just as good a time as any.

Besides, how could she deny him this, when he laid there at her side with his shirt open, revealing his toned chest, and with those dreamy eyes of his staring at her.

“Alright, I’ll make an exception, but only if we are careful.”

Tom grinned with satisfaction, not wasting any time in shedding his shirt and climbing on top of her. “As you wish.”

* * *

Hermione spent the two weeks leading up to Christmas with Tom and his family. The Riddle’s were kind enough to change their plans a bit for her, exchanging their presents with her on Christmas Eve, leaving her free to go and spend Christmas Day with her Grandfather.

From Mr. and Mrs. Riddle, she received a Royal Portable Typewriter, which she absolutely loved! She had always wanted a typewriter, even in the 1990's. Most kids of her time begged their parents for a computer, but she begged hers for a vintage typewriter. She always had been different.

Ironically enough, she even got a gift from Tom Sr. At first glance, it looked like any ordinary book, but when she opened, rather than finding pages upon pages of stories, she found twelve rolls of Lifesavers candy. The humor of the gift was lost to all four of the Riddle’s, but to receive a box of Lifesavers from a family whose lives she had quite literally saved… It gave her a good laugh. Regardless, she thanked him for the gift.

Tom’s gift, however, truly surprised her. When she first opened the box, she found a black leather cover diary, identical to the one Tom had, save for the fact that this one had her name engraved into it instead of his.

“I’ve bewitched it so that anything you write in it will also appear in mind, allowing us to communicate back and forth, even when we're oceans apart,” he told her.

She thought it was sweet of him, despite the reminder of his own infamous diary. To thank him, she gave him a kiss right then and there, which his grandfather then started complaining about.

That evening, Hermione packed her bags and apparated back to Renshaw House. It was hard for her to leave again. She hadn’t gotten any sleep the night before, as Tom had insisted on making full use of their last night together.

Christmas with her grandfather wasn’t quite what she was used to. Unlike Riddle Manor, Renshaw House was not decorated in the slightest for the holiday, on account of the fact that her grandfather didn’t have any decorations. Well, he did, somewhere in the attic, but they were over a hundred years old and had fallen into major disrepair.

Instead of having a big Christmas feast at home, they headed into London to eat at Sweetings, a seafood restaurant her parents used to take her to on special occasions. It wasn’t exactly the same as she remembered, but the food was still good. She even managed to talk Kieran into trying some of her shrimp.

Afterwards, they went for a walk through the city, spending some time at the park before eventually ending up in front of her childhood home. She had suspected that it still existed, but she wasn't counting on it being for sale.

"I contacted the realtor yesterday and arranged for us to have a tour of the house," Kieran told her. “The realtor should be waiting inside as we speak.”

Hermione didn’t know what to say to that. How had he known which house she grew up in? Had he seen it in her head one of the times she had him read her memories? Either way, she wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity and followed him to the door.

Just as he had said, the realtor was waiting for them. He seemed a bit tired, seeing as the hour was fairly late, but otherwise he was more than happy to let them look around. It was strange, seeing the house empty. She did her best to describe how it had looked like in her time to Kieran, pointing to where the couch and television set would have been.

If she closed her eyes and concentrated hard enough, she could envision her father seated in the living room watching the news. She could practically hear her mother’s humming from the kitchen as she cooked a healthy, sugar free supper for them. It brought tears to her eyes just thinking about it. 

Making their way upstairs, she showed him which bedroom had been hers, and how she had shelves and shelves crammed full with books lining the far wall. She remembered how Crookshanks would always curl up on this comfy chair she had in front of her window to sleep.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to get too lost in her memories, as she was reminded of the fact that the realtor probably wanted to head home and get some sleep before Christmas. Wrapping up the tour, they thanked the realtor for his time and headed home themselves.

They exchanged presents shortly after midnight. Though he insisted that she didn’t have to get him anything, she insisted and purchased him a couple of new records for his gramophone, as well as an ugly green Christmas jumper with a couple of reindeers on it. He rolled his eyes at that.

Placing his gifts aside, he then got up and pulled a small wore out box from his pocket, handing it to her. To her surprise, she found a gold locket bearing a crest she did not recognize.

“It is an heirloom of the Bluebell family that once belonged to Evelyn,” he explained. “It works something like a Pensieve. You can extract a particular memory from your mind and store it inside. Then, whenever you open it, the memory will play before your very eyes.”

“I can’t possibly take something like this from you,” she protested, attempting to hand it back to him. 

He waved her off. “It is your birthright as the heir of the Bluebell Flame. She would want you to have it.”

She nodded her head, her eyes starting to mist, as she immediately went to put it on. It was her first ever family heirloom. She determined that she would wear it with honor.

The very next day, she headed out on her own to make one last stop before leaving the country again. With a present in hand, she apparated straight to the doorstep of Black Manor, climbing the steps to knock on the door.

A few minutes later, a house elf answered the door. “My master has been expecting you.”

Stepping inside, the house elf led her over into the drawing room, where she found the little family in a scene that she never thought she’d see in a pureblood family like the Blacks. Cygnus was lying on the floor, playing with one-year old Bellatrix, while Druella sat on the sofa nearby, watching them as she worked on a sample of embroidery.

It didn’t take them long, however, before they noticed her presence.

“Hermione! You made it!” dropping her embroidery, Druella rushed over to her friend, greeting her with a big hug.

“Merry Christmas, Druella,” she said hugging her back.

It was then that she felt it. With her friend’s body literally squished against hers, she could feel a small yet firm bulge in her mid-section. Pulling back, she glanced down at her stomach.

“Are you pregnant again?”

Druella nodded, hugging her hands to her belly, revealing that beneath the loose fitting dress was indeed the start of a bump. “I’m three months along.”

She raised a brow, turning to face Cygnus, who had since gotten up off the floor “You didn’t waste much time, did you?”

Cygnus’s face flushed crimson. “No, I suppose not.”

She shook her head, a grin tugging at her lips. “Well, I’m happy for the two of you.”

However, Druella’s pregnancy was soon forgotten about when she saw her little Goddaughter. It was hard to tell if the one-year old actually recognized her, but she didn’t shy away as she approached, kneeling down beside her.

“This is for you, little Bella, all the way from New York City.”

Bella’s dark eyes, which she had inherited from her father in addition to her dark hair, lit up with delight as she began moving her chubby little arms to grab for it. Hermione giggled as she put it down in front of her, watching as she attempted to open it. She seemed surprisingly good at ripping things. She must have had lots of practice on Christmas Day.

When she finally got the wrapping paper off and the box open, she reached in and lifted out a pretty doll with curly blonde hair, bright red lipstick and a fashionable matching winter outfit.

“Dowlly!” Bella exclaimed as she threw her arms around its neck, hugging it tightly.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Druella insisted.

“What kind of godmother would I be if I didn’t spoil my godchild even the slightest?” she asked. “Oh, and don’t worry about the doll, I’ve charmed it so that it's both fireproof and unbreakable.”

“Thank Merlin! She goes through toys faster than we can buy them. At least this one won’t explode,” Cygnus complained.

They all had a good laugh at that remark.

Hermione stayed and chatted with them for a while, catching up on what she had missed. Abraxas and Hera had gotten engaged, which she already knew, as she had gone with Tom to visit them one day. The wedding was set to take place in the springtime, causing a bit of a feud between Hera and Rosaline, who had initially wanted to have her wedding in the spring as well, but now had to push it closer to summer. Apparently Rosaline was even considering removing Hera from her wedding party as a result.

She rolled her eyes. Rosaline could be so dramatic it wasn’t funny.

After a while, Bella warmed up to her and even came to sit on her lap for a while as she pulled on her new dolly’s hair. It was surprisingly fun to just sit and watch her. Bella was still so innocent at this stage of her life, despite having a bit of a temper to her and a knack for destroying things with bits of accidental magic. She couldn’t resist the urge to press a kiss to the top of her head.

Eventually, her time with them came to an end, and she had to leave, due to meet up with her grandfather to prepare for their departure. They still needed to decide where they were going next.

Bella caught her by surprise as she was leaving, when she waddled over to her and hugged her legs tightly. “Mwionee,” she babbled.

Her heart melted. Not only was her name one of the first few words Bella had learned to say, but she called her by the nickname that Harry and Ron used to call her. It made her feel a bit emotional. No one had called her that since she came to this time.

“Yes, Bella, I’m your Aunt Mione.”

Then, with one last hug from the little girl, she left.


	36. Travels (Part Two)

Hermione chose to ring in the New Year in Italy. For a bookworm like her, it was a dream come true to visit the home of many of Shakespeare’s works. Her first stop was naturally Verona, and as she walked it’s streets, she almost felt as though she herself was actually in the novel ‘Romeo and Juliet’.

At one point, she passed by what was believed to be the Capulets house, with the famous balcony where Romeo professed his love, as well as the street that supposedly laid the scene for the fight between Tybalt and Mercutio, before finally coming across the tomb of Juliet, where both of the tragic lovers were said to have died.

Even if it was just a story, the product of Shakespeare’s imagination, she still felt it was only right to go and pay her respects to the characters.

In addition to the Shakespearian tour of Verona, she visited many art galleries, and took a gondola ride across the waterways of Venice. It was a bit frightening at first, as the gondola didn’t look very sturdy, but they managed to get through the ride without it tipping over. Once she got over her apprehension, she was able to enjoy herself, taking in the beauty of the city.

And of course, she couldn’t be in Italy without trying an authentic Italian pizza. Sadly, this was one thing Kieran could not experience with her, as he was allergic to garlic. Regardless, it was the best pizza she had ever had.

They stayed in Italy for several months, as they thoroughly enjoyed it there and wanted to stay in Europe so that Hermione could easily make it back to Britain in time for Abraxas and Hera’s wedding.

As promised, she had been writing regularly to Tom through the diary he had got her for Christmas. She found that it made her miss him less. It made it feel as if he was experiencing everything with her, and vice versa.

_Italy has been amazing so far. I even picked up a new copy of ‘The Completed Works of William Shakespeare’_ , Hermione wrote.

_I’m pleased to hear you’re having fun. I wish I could have come with you. I’d rather be out there with you then stuck in the ministry right now. Do you know who else joined the ministry after graduating from Hogwarts?_ Tom wrote back.

Hermione answered with a simple ‘no’. She honestly had no idea who was all working at the Ministry, aside from Tom.

_Minerva McGonagall. She was a couple of years ahead of us and Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. She’s still salty at the Slytherins for what happened, and has been trying to sabotage my good reputation with the Minister. I overheard her telling him about the time I ordered a snake to bite Fleamont Potter, and about the time I turned Abraxas into a rat. She’s not exactly an angel herself, from what I recall._

She had forgotten all about McGonagall, having not seen or heard from her in years. The last time she could recall actually speaking with her was on the train ride to Hogwarts during hers and Tom’s first year, and they hadn’t parted ways on good terms, thanks to Abraxas. And then she had that quidditch accident in her final year, which may or may not have had something to do with Abraxas as well. She never did find out exactly what happened that day.

_Well, that’s not nice, and quite uncalled for, if you ask me. She shouldn’t be taking her anger out on you when you’ve done nothing wrong to her. If anything, it’s Abraxas that she should be blaming, not you. And how did she even learn about the snake incident?_

That was a good question. How _did_ Miverva know about it? Especially since she had gone to such lengths to alter Fleamont’s memories, along with the witnesses. Was it possible that she had missed one? Maybe one of them hadn’t been in the hospital wing when she performed the memory charm? Still, the news would have gotten out then, and it hadn’t. At least, not amongst the teachers, who always saw Tom as the image of a model student.

_I don’t know, but if the Minister approaches me about it, I’ll tell him what everyone else was told; that it was simply a prank and that the snake was fake. Turning Abraxas into a rat shouldn’t be too hard to excuse, seeing as we’re viewed as friends. Remind me to thank him for making things difficult when we see him at his wedding. If McGonagall keeps this up, I’m going to have to come up with a back-up plan._

Hermione giggled, imagining Tom transforming him into a rat on his wedding day in front of the bride, as well as all the guests. She didn’t think Tom would be quite that mean, or rather she hoped he wouldn’t, but it was still funny to think about.

Thankfully Abraxas was still very much human looking on his wedding day, though he did seem a bit on edge around Tom. He must have ‘thanked’ him earlier in private. The wedding took place in the Manor’s gardens, which had been decorated quite beautifully for the occasion. All in all, it was a much more pleasant affair than the last wedding she had been at.

Druella, who was now seven months along in her second pregnancy, remained seated throughout most of the reception, refusing to dance, and instead made Cygnus rub her feet for her. Cygnus seemed embarrassed about it, but didn’t complain. 

Taking pity on him, Hermione stepped in to distract Druella as well as little Bella, who was getting a bit fussy, freeing him to go and mingle while the girls talked. They talked about her plans for giving birth as well as name ideas. So far, they had picked out the names Andromeda and Cassiopeia for a girl and Arcturus and Pollux if it was a boy.

“I’ll admit that I’m personally hoping for a boy,” Druella told her. “I mean, obviously I’d be fine if it was another girl, but I’d like for this to be my last pregnancy. I know that I won’t be able to truly relax until I’ve provided the Black’s with the heir they so desperately desire.”

Hermione nodded her head in understanding. Sadly, she knew that her friend wouldn’t get her wish. This was only the second of three girls that the two of them would have. Unless something changed in this timeframe, they would have no sons.

She saved a dance for both Tom and the Groom, in which she wished the latter all the best in his marriage, threatening to have Tom turn him into a rat permanently if he didn’t treat Hera with the love and respect that she deserved.

From there, she joined back up with her grandfather and headed off to Greece. They stayed there for a while, touring the Acropolis of Athens, climbing Mt. Olympus. As a child, she had always been fascinated by Greek Mythology and all of it’s interesting tales.

Her favorite goddess had always been Athena, the goddess of both wisdom and war, for obvious reasons. She was one of the only goddesses that Hermione had ever been able to resonate with, the others all being obsessed with beauty and seducing men. Aside from Artemis perhaps. Still, she wasn’t much of a hunter.

Greece was a beautiful country, with many wonders to see, and Hermione was determined to see them all. She went to the Samaria Gorge, the Epidaurus Theater, took a boat up the Corinth Canal, and even went spelunking at Melissani Cave.

Feeling a bit bad for dragging her grandfather along on all the things she wanted to do, she decided that she would take a full day to do what he wanted to do instead.

“Well, I’ve heard that Delphi is well known for it’s seer’s,” Kieran noted. “It might be interesting to go and consult one.”

Hermione blinked, not saying anything for the first few minutes. Whatever she had expected him to suggest, it certainly wasn’t that.

“You actually believe in divination?” she asked incredulously. “I thought you of all people would be able to see what a hoax it is.”

He raised a brow. “Says the girl who traveled back in time, and can accurately predict the future herself.”

She opened her mouth, ready to argue that it was completely different, but stopped before she could do so, thinking better of it. This was an argument that she had had so many times before with Harry and Ron. And if she was honest, he did have a point. There were those that didn't believe time travel was real either.

Not wanting to go back on her word, she relented and went with him to visit the ruins of Delphi. There weren't many people there at that hour of night. In fact, she wasn’t even sure if there would be any seer’s either, which honestly, wouldn’t have hurt her feelings.

“Why do you distrust divination?” Kieran asked as they explored the ruins.

She let out a sigh. “It started in my original third year. We had a professor who was a bit eccentric. She didn’t like me from the very start, and said I had the most hopelessly mundane mind she had ever seen,” she explained. “However, it wasn’t just that. She was convinced that my friend, Harry, was cursed, that he had the Grim, and that he was going to die. She was wrong… or maybe she was right… I don’t know.”

“Highly guarded your mind is, but not mundane in the slightest,” an unfamiliar voice startled them.

Standing in the distance was an old woman who walked with a cane. She had long grey hair, flowing down her back, and was dressed in a pure white robe. As she got closer, they were able to get a better look at her face. Hermione gasped. There was no iris or pupil in her eyes. They were completely white.

“Who are you?” Hermione asked.

“I am Dorothea. Though most know me simply as the Oracle,” she replied. “I must admit, I have never encountered such a truly intriguing pair such as yourselves. A time traveler and a vampire.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at her. Predicting what they were was too easy to be taken as a serious prediction. It wasn’t difficult to sense that Kieran was a vampire, if you got close enough to him, which the seer was. And her being a time traveler… Well, she had been talking about her original third year not too long before. She could have been listening in and figured it out.

“I can assure you that I mean you no ill will. I heard your souls crying out for answers and I came.”

That was an odd thing to say. She didn’t recall crying out for answers. Sure, there were things that she wanted to know, like what had become of the friends she left in the future, but she had made peace with the fact that she would never know, content with the fact that she was working to give them a better future.

“You fear that someone close to you, someone you love dearly will fall back into darkness… that history will yet repeat itself.”

Hermione froze. There was no way to explain how she knew that. The seer was not reading her mind. She would have felt it if she was. Though, she had felt her try to access her mind earlier, when she claimed that her mind was highly guarded.

“What of it?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she met Kieran’s gaze. He was curious about this as well. To test her, she put in extra effort to guard her brain, strengthening the walls she had built up over the years so as not to let anything slip through. She was a pretty good Occlumens if she said so herself, close to matching Tom in the particular skill.

All of a sudden, the old woman went rigid, her whole body seizing up as her mouth dropped wide open. Paired with her blank white eyes, it made for a disturbing sight.

_“Beware the Heir of Slytherin, for though his heart has been tamed by love, darkness still has a hold. It spreads like wildfire as his lust for power grows. Already it has begun. I sense it now. No one is safe if he continues on this path... most of all you. For if he falls… so too will you follow…”_

Her body then gave a great big jerk as she came back to. Whatever had just happened, it must have taken a great deal of her strength, as she started to fall. Luckily, Kieran managed to get to her in time, catching her before she could hit the ground.

Hermione began to tremble, an unnatural coldness taking up residence inside of her. Her first instinct was to deny it all. There was no way that was true. The seer had to be mistaken. Tom had seemed perfectly fine last she saw him. Well, not perfectly fine. He was frustrated that things weren’t going the way he planned, but he hadn’t given her any reason to fear that he was turning dark.

Unless…

She remembered how nervous Abraxas had been around Tom, and even when she threatened to have Tom turn him back into a rat permanently. Looking back at it now, it seemed a bit weird. She had thought nothing of it at the time, as Tom was well known for intimidating people, but what if there was more to it than that… What if Tom had done more than just intimidate him?

“I sense that you are troubled by my words, and for that I am sorry,” the old woman apologized, her voice once more returned to normal, as she allowed Kieran to help her regain her footing. “Whatever I said, I would advise you not to ignore it. I have seen people die because they chose not to believe me.”

Hermione nodded her head, but didn’t say anything. She wanted to, but she couldn’t get any words to come out of her mouth.

Once he was sure that the old woman was stable, Kieran released her and rejoined Hermione at her side. He bid her thanks for her time, offering to pay her, but she declined, claiming that they could pay her by heeding her words. With that, they took their leave, returning to their rented house.

“Are you certain that you haven’t noticed anything,” he asked her as they walked back.

“I thought I was, but now… I’m not so sure.”

“Have you asked anyone else if they’ve noticed anything?”

She shook her head. “Only the Riddles, who probably wouldn’t know even if he was up to something. He’s gone all day, according to them.”

Maybe that was the problem. She had trusted in the hope that Tom would tell her if something was happening. She wanted to be able to trust him, but what if he was hiding something from her… something that he didn’t want her to know about…

She was unable to sleep that night, or rather day, as she tossed and turned in her bed, running it over and over in her head. The seers' words haunted her. 

For if he falls… so too will you follow...

She would have liked to think that would never happen, that she was stronger than that, but she wasn’t sure, and that’s what terrified her. 

Finally, after hours of contemplation, she decided that she couldn’t ignore this. If it turned out that the seer’s prediction was a hoax, then everything would be fine, but if there was some truth to it, then she would need to put an end to it. No matter how much it hurt her to do so.

However, she chose not to dwell too much on that for the time being. She needed to investigate further before she jumped to any conclusions. And she knew exactly who to go to first.


	37. Investigation

Malfoy Manor was intimidating at the best of times. The pure magnificence of it’s towering architecture and immaculately well kept grounds was enough to inspire awe in the hearts of all who laid eyes on it. Alas, this was not the case for Hermione as she arrived at it’s gates. The only emotion that it inspired in her was a sense of dread.

She had made many trips to this house before. It had even served as her home for a few years, and yet part of her didn’t even want to be there, for fear of what she might find inside. Was she ready? Could she handle it?

“Calm down. You can do this. You are Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of the age,” she reminded herself.

Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself, gathering as much Gryffindor courage as she could find before pulling out her wand and unlocking the gate, one of many safety mechanisms the Malfoy’s had installed to keep unwanted visitors at bay. Another was the shields that were erected around the entire property, letting the master of the house know who was coming and going. Chances were, Abraxas already knew she was there.

It was a bit chilly out, especially without a jacket. Hermione had just come straight from Greece, stopping briefly at her grandfather’s to shower and drop her stuff off. By then, the sun had started to rise, and Kieran was forced to retire to his coffin, leaving her to face this alone.

Reaching the front door, she pulled on the knocker twice. She hoped that they were awake, and that her presence hadn’t woken them. One of the drawbacks of adapting to a nocturnal lifestyle was that almost everyone else was sleeping while she was awake.

After a few moments, Dobby came to open the door staring up at her with big bright green eyes. 

“Hello Dobby,” Hermione smiled at the elf. 

“Miss Granger!” he squeaked with delight, jumping out of the way to let her in. “Master did not tell Dobby that you were coming!”

“It was a bit of a last minute decision. I didn’t have time to send word ahead,” she excused, stepping inside.

That and she didn’t want anyone else to know she was coming. It wasn’t that Abraxas was untrustworthy, but rather that she didn’t want to take any risks in Tom finding out that she had cut her travels short. Technically, she wasn’t supposed to be back home until after Rosaline and Raphael’s wedding in June.

“Is Abraxas awake?”

Dobby nodded, his long ears flopping behind him as he did so. “Yes, Dobby just went to deliver breakfast to his and mistress’ room before you came. Shall I tell them you are here?”

“I’d appreciate that, Dobby. Tell Abraxas that I’ll be waiting in his study to speak with him privately when he’s finished eating.”

“Dobby will do so, Miss.”

Then, with a snap of his wrinkled fingers, Dobby was gone.

Knowing her way around the house quite well, it was all too easy to find her way to the study. She had originally debated over requesting that he meet her in the secret study for a bit more privacy, but considering the events that had taken place there the last time, she decided against it. She didn’t think Abraxas would be too comfortable there.

Upon entering the study, she headed straight to the fire place, already lit with a roaring fire, to warm herself. Her brain ran through all that she needed to say while she waited. There was no easy way to broach the subject she had come to discuss, and she didn’t want him to think she had come solely for that purpose, even if she kind of had.

It wasn’t long before Abraxas joined her, the sound of his footsteps alerting her to his presence. You could tell that he had gotten ready in a hurry, his shirt untucked, and his long platinum hair tied back loosely. She found that, as he got older, he was starting to look more and more like his future son. Were it not for the eyes, she would have swore that Lucius Malfoy was standing before her.

“You certainly are a woman of surprises, Hermione,” Abraxas greeted her, waving the door shut behind him as he came to give her a hug. “To what do I owe the pleasure of such an impromptu visit? Last I heard, you were off in… Where did Hera say you were again? Greece?”

Hermione didn’t hesitate to hug him back. Despite everything that had happened between them in the past, there were no awkward or hard feelings between them. They were content to be merely friends, and Hermione was glad about that. He might be a bit of an arrogant git at times, but he was a good person underneath it all.

“Yes, something came up that required me to return sooner than I had intended.”

“Oh? Does it have something to do with why you asked to speak with me in private?” he asked, pulling away. “Hera was a bit put out, by the way. I fear she won’t let you leave without at least sitting down with her for a cup of tea.”

She felt bad for causing Hera to feel that way, as she was a good friend to her, but she didn’t want to involve her in this. If everything went well, she would gladly stay for tea, but if it didn’t… She would have to make it up to her later.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, it does.”

Taking a seat in one of the overstuffed armchairs in front of the fire, he motioned for her to do the same. “Well, it must be important if it dragged you away from Greece of all places. I’ve heard it’s very nice there.”

She just nodded, nibbling on her bottom lip. She didn’t want to ask him, but the seed of doubt that the seer had planted inside of her was eating away at her.

“Hermione? Are you alright?”

She let out a sigh. It was too late to back down now. Besides, it would be rude to just show up without warning for no reason.

“I came across a seer while I was in Delphi. As you know, I’m not generally one to believe in Divination, but she made a prediction that was… troubling to say the least.” she started to explain.

“What did she say?”

“She was a bit vague, as most seers are, but I have reason to believe the prediction was about Tom. She told me to beware of the Heir of Slytherin… and that darkness has taken hold of his heart.”

Something changed in Abraxas when she told him that. His body tensed and the color drained from his face.

“And you believe her?”

“Personally, I’ve seen no reason to, but then again, I’ve been gone for close to a year. I haven’t been close enough to him to be able to tell for sure,” she continued. “That’s why I came to you. I thought, as his closest friend, you would know more of how he’s been.”

He shifted in his seat, averting his gaze to the flames. “W-Well, he’s been a bit stressed due to some issues at the ministry, but aside from that… I-I haven’t noticed anything.”

Hermione knew in an instant that he was hiding something. Her ordinarily overly-confident friend was stuttering almost as bad as Professor Quirrell. It was odd how both cases had to do with the same person.

“Abraxas, you should know by now that you can’t fool me,” she said. “I know something happened between the two of you before the wedding. You looked like you were ready to jump out of your own skin whenever Tom was around.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just nervous about marrying the love of my life.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. This was proving to be more difficult than she had expected. It was clear to her that, despite whatever had happened, he was still loyal to Tom. Perhaps it hadn’t been the best idea to come to Abraxas after all. If she left things as they were now, he would probably end up reporting back to Tom with what she had told him. She couldn’t have that.

“I’m really sorry to have to do this, Abraxas, but you’ve left me no choice,” she apologized, rising from her seat.

“What are you-”

“Legilimens!”

Scenes began to flash before her eyes, the study around her disappearing from sight. It took a moment for him to realize what was happening and quickly build up his defenses. A brick wall… That was what he conjured to protect himself? She could almost laugh at how easy it was for her to break through. It was a wonder that he had been able to shield his mind from both his father and Grindelwald.

There were many things swirling around in his brain, most of them involving Hera, which she wasn’t particularly interested in delving into, a couple having to do with his parents. His guilt and self-loathing at having killed his own father… The hatred his mother felt towards him… She hadn’t even attended his wedding.

It was almost as if he was throwing memories at her to keep her out of the one she was looking for.

Alas, it was only a matter of time before she reached it.

_Abraxas was in his room, straightening out his wedding robes in front of a full length mirror when the door opened and Tom stepped inside. Catching sight of his friend in the mirror, Abraxas smiled and turned to face him._

_“The day is finally here. Can you believe it? I’m actually getting married!” he exclaimed._

_Tom didn’t reply._

_This didn’t seem to phase Abraxas though, as he returned to face the mirror, reaching up to pat his hair, checking to make sure there wasn’t a strand out of place. He was so distracted that he didn’t notice Tom slip the Elder Wand out of his pocket and point it at his back._

_“It’ll be your turn next, Tom,” he teased. “You better get a move on and propose to Hermione. You wouldn’t want to be left out.”_

_“I might have time to if you weren’t making everything so difficult for me.”_

_“What are you talking about?”_

_That’s when he finally saw it. Slowly turning back to face him, he raised his hands into the air._

_“You jinxed McGonagall’s broom during her last Quidditch match, and because of that, she’s been doing everything in her power to ruin my plans. Somehow, she’s found out about things I would rather not have the public know, and as a result, I’ve had to deal with her accordingly.”_

_Abraxas gave a big gulp, his face as white as a sheet. “Y-You didn’t kill her… did you?”_

_Tom shook his head. “No, it would be too difficult to cover up if I did.”_

_For a moment, Tom started to lower his wand. Abraxas must have seen this as well, as his shoulders slumped slightly in relief, but it was short lived, as his wand was pointed back at him again in the blink of an eye._

_“Crucio!”_

_A moment later, Abraxas crumpled to the floor, his body convulsing unnaturally. He was screaming out in agony, begging him to stop. Tom didn’t listen, at least not right away. He kept it going for several minutes, until he was distracted by a knock at the door._

_“Abraxas? Are you doing alright in there?” Cygnus’ voice called out from the other side. “What the… The door’s locked! You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”_

_Abraxas struggled to his feet shakily, his breathing heavy and ragged._

_Slipping the wand back into his pocket, Tom stumbled back a couple steps. “Not a word of this to anyone… especially Hermione.”_

The scene vanished from sight as Hermione found herself being pushed out of his mind, her body falling back into the chair. Her body was drenched in sweat, yet she felt as though every ounce of warmth had left her body.

Tom had Crucio’d Abraxas… Had it not been for the fact that she had seen it with her own two eyes, she probably wouldn’t have believed it. She didn’t want to believe it, but the proof was undeniable.

“I’m so sorry...” She apologized, not only for the fact that he had been subjected to torture at the hands of someone he considered a friend, but also for having invaded his mind against his will.

Her body began to tremble uncontrollably. She was no better than Tom. The seer’s warning was true. It wasn’t just Tom who was in danger of falling to the dark side, but her as well, as much as she loathed to admit it.

“I’m sorry too. I-I should have just told you myself.”

“It’s fine, but I need you to be completely honest with me. Is there anything else I should know about? Has he used the Cruciatus Curse on you before?”

“No, that was the first time he had done so. He doesn’t usually get mad at me like that. The last time was after our date to Hogsmeade back in third year. I guess it’s safe to say he’s gotten more severe with his punishments since then.”

It brought a bit of relief to hear that Tom hadn’t used it on him more than once. Still, it wasn’t good that he had used it at all. Abraxas was right. His punishments, if they could even be called that, were becoming cruel.

“If Tom finds out that I told you…” he muttered. “I can only imagine what he did to McGonagall.”

Hermione felt like slapping herself over the head. She had been so focused on Abraxas and the fact that he had been Crucio’d that she had forgotten about Tom’s mention of McGonagall.

“He didn’t say anything else about her, did he?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t dare ask.”

Getting to her feet again, she began to pace back and forth, her brain scrambling for a plan to fix this horrible mess. Her travels would have to come to an indefinite end. That much was for certain. Now that she knew what was going on, she couldn’t just go off and leave everyone unprotected. Just as the seer said, no one was safe, especially those closest to him. The only problem was that she didn’t know how to protect them. And how did she protect herself?

“I need to find McGonagall and make sure she’s alright.” She decided that would be her next priority.

And with that set as her next priority, it came time for her to leave, though not before she covered up her tracks. As much as she hated having to do it, she altered his memories of her visit so that, should he encounter Tom, he wouldn’t be at risk of revealing anything to him.

In addition, she asked Dobby to keep quiet about her visit. He seemed hesitant, but agreed in the end when she told him that his master’s life might be at risk if he didn’t.

* * *

A little while later, Hermione was making her way through the Ministry of Magic, doing her best to navigate through the crowd of workers without getting jostled too much. Though, she may as well have not even tried. There were so many people coming and going that it was almost impossible for them not to bump into each other.

She admittedly felt a little lost, not knowing her way around the ministry all that well. The only part of it she did know was, ironically enough, the Department of Mysteries, the one area she sought to avoid. Though, she couldn’t deny that she was tempted to sneak down there and see what Tom was up to. The fact that he might be able to sense her if she did, was the only thing holding her back from doing so.

Eventually she managed to reach the front desk, where a young receptionist, perhaps a few years older than herself, was seated.

“Hi, I’m looking for Minerva McGonagall,” Hermione said. “I have a personal meeting arranged with her.”

The receptionist raised a thin brow as she glanced up at her. “Auror McGonagall just reported in not too long ago. You should be able to find her in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on Level Two.”

With a nod of her head, she thanked the woman and headed towards the lifts, choosing the most empty lift she could find. Only one other person climbed in with her, and didn’t seem to recognize her, as he didn’t even bat an eye. This suited her just fine. The less people who noticed her, the better.

As the lift began to pull away, Hermione slipped into the corner farthest from the man she shared a lift with, allowing herself a moment to try and come to terms with the startling revelation she had just gone through.

Tom was starting to turn into Voldemort.

The mere thought of it made her heart ache. A few stray tears managed to leak out of her eyes before she quickly wiped them away. He had promised her that he wouldn’t let himself turn evil. He had promised that he would use his powers to make the wizarding world a better place. She had believed him… trusted that he would stay true to his word… And yet, now she found that he was torturing those who were trying to help him.

Why? Why would he do that? She didn’t understand. She let out a sigh, willing herself to calm down. Hopefully, she would have some answers by the end of her investigation.

She managed to pull herself together just in time for the lift to come to a screeching halt. The man she was riding with stepped aside to let her out before shuffling back into his previous position. Then, the lift disappeared from sight, heading deeper underground.

Starting down the corridor, she couldn’t help but feel a bit overwhelmed by all the number of doors on either side of her. There were so many that there was hardly any wall in between. To think that each of those doors actually opened into huge areas of space. It brought into perspective just how massive the Ministry really was.

It didn’t take her too long to find her way to the Auror Headquarters. She had always imagined aurors to have these big elaborate offices, seeing as they were some of the most important members of the Ministry. So, as you can imagine, it came as a bit of shock to her when she found that it consisted of one big room divided into dozens of small cubicles, one for each Auror. It looked no different than the average muggle office.

"May I help you, miss?" asked the Head Auror; an older man with graying hair and a kind smile.

"I'm looking for Minerva McGonagall. Is she in?"

"She's in her cubicle at the end of the fourth row," he pointed it out to her. "Why? Is she in trouble?"

"Not at all. I actually went to Hogwarts with her and thought it'd be nice to drop by for a visit."

He seemed to accept that, as he went back to his own desk, allowing her to go on her way.

She had seen McGonagall in the halls of Hogwarts in passing many times, but never long enough to get a good look at her. She had changed much over the years, growing to more resemble the woman she had known as her Transfiguration Professor.

Sitting in her cubicle, pouring over a pile of paperwork, her dark hair tied up into a tight bun, she was the image of professionalism. She seemed so focused that Hermione almost didn’t want to disturb her.

Unfortunately, she was left with little other option when McGonagall tore her eyes away from her work and looked up at her.

“You’re Riddle’s girl, aren’t you?” McGonagall asked, narrowing her eyes at her.

“Yes, I am, but I do have a name as well. It’s Hermione Granger.” Unlike McGonagall, she didn’t harbor any resentment towards her, and tried to be as polite and friendly as she could under the circumstances. “We met on the train to Hogwarts in my first year. Do you remember? We were getting along rather well until a certain arrogant blonde showed up. I had hoped that we could be friends, but you deemed me to be a lost cause.”

McGonagall’s gaze softened towards her, though her posture remained stiff. Then again, her posture had always been stiff. It was just the way she carried herself. It was nice to see that there was still some of the Minerva McGonagall she knew in her.

“I had hoped for that as well.”

“It’s not too late to start over and try again, you know,” Hermione said, holding out her hand.

She started to raise her hand to take hers, but stopped short, retracting it to her side as her eyes hardened once more.

“I don’t think that’s wise, considering your relationship with Riddle.”

And there it was again. It was clear that she had a deep rooted distrust of Tom. That was all the confirmation she needed. Something had definitely happened between them.

Stepping further into the cubicle, she cast a quick wandless silencing charm to give them a bit of privacy before turning back to face McGonagall.

“I need you to tell me what Tom did to you.”

McGonagall gaped at her. “How did you-”

“Know that you told the minister some things about him that he didn’t want you to?” Hermione finished her sentence for her. “I know because you’re not the only one who got blamed for that situation. Tom knew that you have a grudge against Slytherin’s because of what Abraxas did to your broom, and took his anger out on him as well.”

“Did he...”

“He used the Cruciatus Curse on him.”

At the mention of the unforgivable curse, McGonagall slumped back into her chair, her eyes wide with fear as well as something else… a look of recognition.

“Did he use it on you as well?”

McGonagall nodded her head.

Hermione hung her head. She didn’t know what she had been hoping for, as she had already known that he had used the curse on Abraxas, but receiving confirmation that he had used it on not just one person, but two… It made her realize that this was more than just a one time slip-up. He had consciously chosen to use it on both occasions.

“Did he say anything to you?”

“He just warned me to stay out of his way… threatening to kill someone I love if I didn’t.”

That came as an extra stab to the heart. Having heard more than enough to reach a definite conclusion, she picked her head back up and removed the silencing charm.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience. I will do my best to ensure nothing like this happens ever again. You have my word.”

Then, without delay, she turned and walked away, leaving a stunned Minerva McGonagall in her wake.


	38. Return

After leaving the Ministry, Hermione apparated back to Renshaw House, heading straight up to her bedroom. She thought about locking her door, but decided not to bother, knowing that no one would disturb her. Her grandfather was still sleeping, and probably would be for many hours to come, and Baldwin was off working on restoring the house to its former glory. She was grateful for that, feeling the need to be alone for a while.

Her mind was in a state of chaos, a million different thoughts swirling out of control inside of her head. Taking a few deep, soothing breaths, she attempted to calm herself before working everything out.

She started with everything that she had just learned. Tom had used the Cruciatus Curse on both Abraxas and McGonagall. That much she knew. Why? That, she didn’t know. The logical thing to do was to confront him about it and ask him why he had done so, but at the same time, she didn’t think she would be able to face him right away, at least not without breaking down crying or screaming at him.

No, that wouldn’t work. A level head would be needed to face him.

Were Abraxas and McGonagall the only ones he had tortured? Who was to say he hadn’t gotten annoyed at someone else while she was gone? Say, a co-worker who might have accidentally knocked into him or spilled his drink all over him. She didn’t like thinking like that, as it made him seem even more cruel and ruthless, but at the same time, she knew that she couldn’t rule out any possibilities.

While he was capable of great things, he was also capable of terrible things. She had always known that deep down. She had simply chosen to overlook the fact for a while, focusing only on the good. There was nothing wrong with that in theory, except for the fact that it had left her unprepared for situations such as this.

A part of her couldn’t help but feel guilty, as if this was all her fault. The whole reason she had been sent back to this time was to stop Tom from becoming Voldemort, and though she had done her best to prevent the creation of his Horcruxes and saved several lives, it clearly hadn’t been enough. Had she failed in some way?

Maybe the problem was that she had fallen in love with him? The scroll never once instructed her to fall in love. Then again, Dumbledore had always been convinced that Tom wasn’t capable of love. He was wrong in that assumption. At least, she thought he was.

Just then, she saw a faint glow emanating from her suitcase, which was set next to her bed where she had dropped it upon her return earlier that day. She hadn’t even had the chance to unpack yet, unsure of whether it even paid to do so. Now that she was back and had some time on her hands, she figured that she may as well.

Picking it up and laying it down on her bed, she unfastened the straps and unlocked it. She soon found the source of the glow. It was her diary; the one that Tom had given her for Christmas.

He was trying to contact her...

She just stood there and stared at it for a couple of minutes, debating whether or not to open it. Was he writing to her because he had heard about her appearance at the ministry and wanted confirmation from her that it was true? She hadn’t thought anyone recognized her, but she could be wrong. The number of times she had been proven wrong in her judgment lately was a testament to the fact.

Perhaps she could confront him through the diary? That way, she wouldn’t have to actually face him and she wouldn’t be at risk of being hurt if he grew violent with her.

No, that wasn’t a good idea. Not to mention that it sounded downright cowardly. As tempted as she was to try and take the easy way out, she knew that, for her own sake, she needed to face him in person. She needed to hear him admit what he had done in his own words, and see the expression on his face when he did so.

Still, it wouldn’t do any good to ignore him, she decided as she reached out and picked up the small book. Pulling it open, she let the book take her to the page he had written on.

_I miss you,_ was all that was written.

Those three little words made Hermione want to cry.

_I miss you too._

Despite everything she had discovered, she could still honestly say that she missed him. She knew she shouldn’t, but she did regardless.

_What have you been up to? Tell me about Greece. I need a distraction._

Had she read this message a couple of days earlier, she would have thought nothing of it, but now… Now she couldn’t help but wonder… What did he mean by that? What exactly did he need a distraction from? Was it a distraction from missing her or a distraction from the urge to torture more innocent people?

Nevertheless, she obliged his request and told him about Greece and all the things she had done while she was there, obviously omitting the part about going to visit the seer in Delphi. There was no way she could safely bring that up without revealing the prophecy to him.

_I don’t suppose you’ve grown tired of traveling yet? I know you’ll be back in June, but still. I miss waking up to your beautiful face every morning._

They were a couple hundred miles apart, and yet he was still able to make her swoon with his words. Why did he have to be so charismatic and just… utterly irresistible? At the very least she was relieved that he didn’t seem to be aware that she was back in Britain. Unless that too was a lie.

_I don’t know if I could ever grow tired of traveling. However, I might be inclined to return a bit sooner. I’ll have to discuss it with my Grandfather though._

She hadn’t known what exactly to say. Eventually she would have to return to him, but how long could she wait before doing so? She didn’t much like the idea of hiding away in her Grandfather’s house until June, and she couldn’t bear the thought of returning to her travels, all the while knowing that her friends were in danger.

_Well, I have to go now, but I wish you all the best, and I hope that your grandfather will approve of the idea._

And with that, she closed the diary, slipping it back into her suitcase before locking it back up and setting it back down on the floor. She had made a decision.

Something needed to be done. That much was certain. She needed to protect those she cared about. However, that included him as well. The thought of just abandoning him to such a dark fate hurt too much… She had to at least try to save him. Looking back at the past, she had always managed to get through to him before. Maybe she could do it again?

It was time for her to return to him. Not right away. She needed time first to prepare herself, as well as make the necessary arrangements. As she had told Tom, she needed to discuss it with her grandfather when he woke up. And there was one other person she wanted to visit as well.

The man who had set her on this path to begin with...

* * *

That evening, after the sun had set, Hermione and Kieran headed to Hogwarts, a place that neither of them thought they would be returning to so soon. It was strange for Hermione to be back at Hogwarts and not be a student, having spent so many years there. Thirteen years in total if you included her original six years.

Luckily, there weren’t terribly many students out and about at that hour. Dinner had already ended and curfew went into effect within the hour. Of course, there were always a few odd students who insisted on staying out as long as possible, some even longer. One of the students she happened to come across was none other than Charlus Potter, whom she found hiding in a darkened corner, snogging a Slytherin girl that she recognized as Dorea Black.

Hermione quickly averted her gaze, not wanting to disturb them, a sad smile tugging at her lips. It wasn’t that long ago when her and Tom were in their shoes, sneaking kisses in between classes and prefect patrols. Those seemed like such simple days in comparison. Oh, how she longed to have them back.

"Are you sure we can trust Dumbledore with this?" Kieran asked.

Hermione didn’t know that herself, if she was completely honest. Her former Transfiguration Professor and once Headmaster was unpredictable at the best of times. However, he did have experience with her current dilemma. If anyone could understand what it was like to love a dark wizard, and not want to be the one to end said dark wizard, it was Dumbledore.

“What is your impression of him?” she asked in response. “You taught in the same school as him for many years.”

“You know very well that I am not a sociable person, and as such, can hardly recall a time in which I spoke more than a few words to him. I never particularly cared to get to know him, though I have heard rumors that he is an exceptional wizard.”

In that case, she probably knew more than him. That was a strange, yet exhilarating thought. For once she actually knew more about something than her vampiric grandfather. She couldn’t help the small smug smile that pulled at the corners of her lips.

Before long they arrived in the Transfiguration Classroom. The classroom itself was empty, but the light shining through underneath the door to his personal chambers alerted them to his presence.

“Come in!” he called, no doubt hearing their footsteps.

If Dumbledore was surprised to see them, he certainly didn’t show it. Tearing his gaze away from the pile of homework before him, he looked at them as if he had known they were coming all along.

“Lemon Drop?” he asked as always, motioning to the bowl of sweets. “Or perhaps a Blood Pop would be better suited to your tastes, Kieran?”

Kieran scowled. “No thank you. Those things are so diluted that you can hardly taste any blood at all. It’s really not surprising that they don’t work.”

Huh. That was the first time she had heard that about Blood Pops. They were always advertised as the ideal treat for vampires. Though, she supposed advertisements were more often than not simply hyped to sell the product. Also, she had never tasted one herself to know for sure. In this case, she chose to take her grandfather’s word for it.

Her attention was then captured by the sight of an all too familiar bird sitting on his usual perch. Moving towards him, she reached out to gently stroke a finger along his cheek and down his neck. He let out a pitiful noise as he leaned into her. She could see that he wasn’t feeling well. His feathers had lost much of their color, and fallen out even.

“Poor Fawkes. It’s getting close to your burning day, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Dumbledore replied with a wistful smile. “He’s been molting all over my office for days now. The sooner he gets it over with, the better, in my opinion.”

As sad as it was to hear that the beautiful bird was about to die, she knew she ought not to feel too sad about it. She had read about Phoenixes and how they were reborn from their own ashes. Still, it would be an interesting event to witness. Harry said they burst into flames.

“However, you seem to have brought him a bit of extra cheer. He always did seem quite fond of you. Then again, it shouldn’t come as a surprise really. The Phoenix has the most extraordinary mind, capable of remembering something as simple as a face for hundreds of years, past or future.”

Hearing that made Hermione freeze. “You know.”

He nodded.

“How long?”

“Since I asked to speak with you in your first year, or rather your first year in 1938,” he explained. “As you might recall, I was curious about how remarkably advanced you were. I’m afraid that I allowed it to get the best of me, and I hope you will forgive me for this, but I read your mind. You can only imagine how surprised I was to find that you were actually a time traveler.”

Hermione didn’t know what to say. Her head was spinning. As if she hadn’t had enough startling discoveries lately. Dumbledore had read her mind… Somehow that didn’t surprise her. At the time, she hadn’t even considered the possibility, but now that she thought back on it, she realized that all the signs were there. She could remember feeling mentally exhausted after that interrogation. It made perfect sense.

“So then, you must know why I was sent back? Why you sent me back?”

“Because of Tom Riddle,” he answered. “I assume that is why you have come to visit me on this fine evening?”

She had to wonder whether he already knew about everything that had happened, but told him anyway, recounting what the seer had predicted. It was almost as if the words were etched into her skull. She felt as though she would never forget them. Then again, she had once felt the same way about Dumbledore’s Scroll. She hadn’t forgotten about it wholly, but at the same time, she didn’t remember it word for word.

“I have but one question for you, Miss Granger,” he spoke after a while. “When you saw young Mr. Malfoy’s memory, did you happen to notice which wand Tom was using?”

A jolt ran through her as the significance of his question dawned on her. “He was using the Elder Wand.”

“The Elder Wand is often seen as a means to achieve one’s wildest dreams, and while the wand itself can be used for good, it comes with a terrible curse. The power it grants its wielder is overwhelming, and has a way of corrupting even those with the best of intentions.”

“So, it’s the Elder Wand that is causing him to act this way?” Kieran asked.

“Yes and no,” Dumbledore replied. “There is darkness in each of us, only more so in some. Tom, is one such person. That is simply the way he was born. You have done well in taming his darkness, Miss Granger, but you can not tame it completely. There will always be a part of him that will struggle in this way.”

“Does that mean there is no hope for him?”

Dumbledore didn’t respond right away, as he got a far away look in his eyes. He was lost in his own thoughts. Perhaps even thinking about his own past.

“That is a question I can not answer. Only time will tell. Tom faces a difficult decision, one that many powerful wizards such as him have failed. He must decide what is more important to him; power or love.”

His words didn’t exactly make her feel any better, but she knew that they weren’t necessarily meant to. The truth wasn’t always pleasant, nor was it easy to take. However, she was grateful that Dumbledore was telling her the truth. She knew from experience that was a privilege that few people received. Her former Headmaster had a tendency of keeping people in the dark when he thought it best.

“He’s asked me to come back, and I intend to do so,” Hermione made her intentions clear. “I wish to observe his behavior on a day to day basis before I confront him about it. If I can still help him even in the slightest, I will try.”

“I do not think that wise, Miss Granger, not for his sake, but for yours. The prophecy seems to suggest that you are at risk of falling to the darkness yourself.”

“That is another reason why I came to you. I need you to promise that, should things go wrong, and I end up following him into the darkness as foretold, you will work to put an end to both of us.”

“I don’t think-” Kieran started to protest, but was cut off as Dumbledore raised a hand to silence him.

“I will do what is necessary,” Dumbledore assured her. “However, I do agree with Kieran that we shouldn’t jump to such drastic conclusions straight away.”

“What if we were to come up with a non-violent solution to serve as an alternative? That way, should it prove necessary, you would be able to stop him without actually killing him,” Kieran suggested.

Her heart skipped a beat. She tried not to get her hopes up too much, afraid of being disappointed, but she couldn’t deny that his suggestion did appeal to her. A non-violent alternative would be preferable. She didn’t want to kill Tom, and she certainly didn’t want to follow him down his dark path.

“What do you have in mind?”


	39. A Secret Meeting

Nestled into Tom’s side, Hermione began to stir. Her eyes slowly flickered open, wincing as they were met by a blinding ray of light filtering into the room through the glass of the balcony door. With a slight groan, she nuzzled her face further into the firm chest that had served as her pillow to shield her eyes.

Unfortunately, her pillow then began to move beneath her, as Tom chuckled. “Good morning to you too, my little vampire.”

Grabbing one of the many actual pillows that lay scattered around them across the king-sized bed, she used it to hit him in the face, causing his chuckles to turn into full fledged laughter.

Ever since she had come back from traveling with her grandfather, she had found it difficult to readjust back to a regular sleep schedule. It took her a while to fall asleep each night, which wasn’t at all helped by the fact that Tom was insatiable, leaving her feeling groggy and still tired come morning. She knew she would get her body used to it again eventually, but until then it was a struggle.

Tom had since started teasing her that she had spent so much time with her grandfather that she was becoming like a vampire herself. Even dared to ask whether she had been bitten while she was gone. Hermione wanted so badly to be annoyed at him, but she knew she couldn’t. Not when he seemed so happy. It was useless to even try.

Over a month had passed since Hermione returned to Tom, and though she kept a close watch over him, or at least as close as she could without drawing too much suspicion, she had yet to find anything worth concern. He was either trying to keep a low profile around her, or he was just that good at hiding things from her. She wasn’t quite sure what to think.

Still, she didn’t allow herself to be taken too off guard.

Disentangling herself from the blanket, she dragged herself out of bed, slipping into her robe and slippers before making her way over to the source of sunlight. She had just finished fastening the belt around her when she pulled back the doors and stepped out onto their small yet private balcony, moving around the chairs to go and lean against the railing.

Paris was every bit as wonderful as Druella and Rosaline had always bragged it was. The famous Eiffel Tower could be seen at a distance from their hotel. Combined with the sun that was still rising in the sky behind, it made for a breathtaking scenery. And the smell… Oh, the smell… It was absolutely divine. The smell of freshly baked pastries that wafted through the air from a nearby cafe made her mouth water.

“I say we go out and get some fresh croissants for breakfast,” she said longingly

Coming up behind her, now dressed in a pair of pants, he wound his arms around her waist, his hands snaking their way beneath her robe to run over the bare skin of her stomach. “As you wish,” he pressed a kiss to her temple. “Shall we meet up with Cygnus and Druella there.”

She nodded, leaning into his touch. “Yes, I’d like that.

Half an hour later, after they managed to pry their hands off of one another, they headed out of the hotel to do exactly that.

Being the first to arrive at the cafe, they selected an adequately sized table out on the sidewalk, browsing through their menus while they waited. Cygnus and Druella arrived a bit later, looking no worse for wear, with their two daughters in tow; two-year old Bellatrix walking beside her father, who was struggling to keep hold of her hand, while two-week old Andromeda slept in her mother’s arms.

The family of four spotted them almost at once.

“Aunt Mione!” Pulling free from her father’s grasp, Bella bolted straight towards Hermione, all but jumping into her arms.

“Hello, Bella,” Hermione greeted her with a warm smile. “How are you liking Paris so far? Are you being good for your parents?”

She nodded her head. “I’m always good!”

Cygnus scoffed as he pulled out a chair for his wife, making sure she was seated before taking a seat for himself. “I’d hardly say that, considering how you lit the muggle hotel porter on fire.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “She did what now?”

With a tired sigh, Cygnus began to tell them the tale of their chaotic arrival at their hotel. Bellatrix had mistakenly thought that the muggle man was trying to steal their luggage and lit him on fire as a result. Luckily there was a candle stand not too far behind him, which the muggles assumed to be the culprit rather than their young daughter.

“Muggles are bad,” Bella said with a humph as she crossed her little arms in front of her.

Hermione shook her head, having absolutely no trouble believing the story at all. It sounded exactly like the kind of thing Bellatrix would do. She almost expected the toddler to start cackling maniacally.

“That sounds more like your grandmother talking,” she said. “Muggles aren’t bad. Not all of them anyway.”

Druella chose to clear her throat just then, changing the topic to avoid the impending argument. “Shall we order? I’m so excited for you all to try some of the local delicacies.”

Sometimes Hermione forgot that her friends were purebloods, and that they didn’t generally share her views on muggles. It was sad to think that they probably wouldn’t even be sitting here with her if they knew the truth about her true blood status. Could they even be considered true friends in that regard? 

She wasn't sure about much of anything anymore.

A muggle waiter soon came to take their order, distracting everyone from the awkwardness that had developed. Feeling particularly hungry that morning, she ordered herself a fresh croissant, a cup of coffee, and a strawberry eclair for desert.

“I’ve heard that you’ve been receiving a lot of job offers since you arrived back in England” Cygnus stated. “Have you found any that interest you yet?”

Hermione nodded her head, setting her coffee cup down, well enough away so that Bellatrix couldn’t try and grab it.

“As a matter of fact, I have. Nicholas Flamel wrote to me, offering an apprenticeship with him. I plan to go visit him to accept the proposition in person before I leave.”

Druella nearly choked on her tea. “I’m sorry, but did you say Nicholas Flamel, as in the only known maker of the Philosopher’s Stone?”

Hermione nodded. “The same. I met him back in fifth year at one of Slughorn’s dinner parties. I’ve been a long time admirer of his work.”

“What’s the Philosopher’s Stone?” Cygnus asked.

“Did you even listen to a word the teachers said back at Hogwarts, or were you too busy goofing off to pay attention?” Druella fixed her husband with a hard stare. “The Philosopher’s Stone is legendary, possessing the power to turn any metal into gold as well as producing the Elixir of Life.”

This piqued Tom’s interest. “Ah yes, I’ve read about that. It supposedly makes the drinker immortal, ensuring that you’ll never die.”

Hermione didn’t like the look in his eyes. It was the look he got when he was planning. “That is actually a common misconception,” she corrected him. “The Elixir of Life doesn’t actually prevent you from dying. It just extends your lifespan. It doesn’t stop you from aging either, from what I’ve seen.”

Tom nodded in understanding, the look passing quickly from his eyes.

They chatted for a while longer as they ate. Hermione got to hold her youngest goddaughter for a while, handing Bellatrix off to Tom, who protested against the idea, but ended up taking her anyway. He tried to hold her at a distance, but Bella was determined to crawl all over him, playing with his hair and the buttons of his shirt.

Shooting her a desperate look, he mouthed the words, “help me.”

Hermione giggled and shook her head, much too content with the adorable baby in her arms to move.

Eventually though, Andromeda woke up and demanded feeding, forcing Hermione to part with her and hand her back to her mother, thus freeing Tom of Bellatrix and her grasp on his hair. Bellatrix always did have an obsession with Tom. She only hoped it wouldn’t grow to the extreme that it had originally.

“Well, we’d better get going,” Tom said to Cygnus, straightening out his hair as he rose from his seat.

Both women turned to look at their men in question.

“I’ve called a meeting for the Knights of Walpurgis, seeing as we’re all in the same country at the moment,” Tom explained.

“And why aren’t we invited?” Druella asked. “From what I recall, Hermione and I are members as well.”

Druella had taken the words right out of Hermione’s mouth. She too wanted to know this. She had always attended the meetings before, though the last real meeting had been right before they graduated. It was strange, especially considering the fact that Tom had claimed her as his Queen.

“It’s no big deal really. The meeting itself is more of a cover up for Raphael’s Bachelor Party,” Cygnus explained with a shrug, glancing over at Tom out of the corner of his eyes.

Tom nodded in affirmation “We won’t be gone long. A couple of hours at most. I’ll see you back at the hotel room,” he promised as he bent down to press a quick kiss to her lips. 

And with that, the two men left, disappearing into the crowded streets of Paris.

Neither of the women spoke for the first few minutes after left, silently sharing looks of suspicion.

“I thought that Bachelor Parties took place in the evening,” Druella remarked, shifting baby Andromeda from one side to the other as she fixed her blouse back into place.

“They usually do.”

Something was definitely up, and it gave her a bad feeling. A part of her wanted to disregard it as nothing and enjoy some quality one on one time with her friend, but the other part of her knew that she couldn’t afford to just ignore the matter. It was her job to keep an eye on him. For all she knew, the world as she knew it could be hanging on this secret meeting.

“I’ll stay here with the kids,” Druella seemed to read her mind. “You go find out what those sneaky men are up to.”

Hermione smiled in thanks to Druella.

Slipping into the crowd, it didn't take her long to realize that Tom and Cygnus were already far out of sight. This didn't hinder her though, as she muttered a quick tracking spell under her breath, watching as gold dust swirled around her, revealing two pairs of gold footprints in front of her. She was on the right path.

She followed the trail of footprints down several streets, winding in and out among the locals, who thankfully seemed none the wiser about the gold dust. Eventually the trail led her to the Lestrange Apartment Complex, a massive, posh looking building that looked more like a chateau.

Peering inside the glass doors, she made sure that she didn’t recognize anyone inside before entering. At first glance, the lobby looked normal, enough so to convince a muggle perhaps, but on second look, the paintings on the wall started to move, and the grand piano in the corner was performing Debussy on its own.

“Bonjour, comment puis-je vous aider?” asked the woman at reception.

Her beauty was startlingly reminiscent of Fleur Delacour’s. Her facial structure itself was different, but she had the same silvery-blonde hair. She wondered if the two women were somehow related. Either way, judging from the way that the young porter was drooling at her, neglecting his own responsibilities, she had to say that she was probably at least part Veela.

“Je suis ici pour voir M. Lestrange,” Hermione replied in fluent French. Now more than ever, she was grateful that the Malfoy’s had taught her French. It came in handy during situations such as this. “Pouvez-vous me dire quelle chambre est la sienne?”

“Oui, vous le trouverez dans la chambre 107, au troisième niveau.”

“Merci.”

Making her way over to the elevator, she stepped inside and pressed the button to take her to the third floor, disillusioning herself almost as soon as the door closed. The elevator ride was surprisingly short and quite pleasant, especially when compared to the lifts in the Ministry. She much preferred the muggle contraption, as it didn’t make her feel ill as a result.

An older couple was waiting on the other side when the door opened, peering inside in confusion. They didn’t see her. Carefully she slipped out before the door could close again, starting down the corridor, counting the numbers on the doors as she went.

104… 105… 106…

Ah, Room 107!

She knew that it would be unlikely for her to sneak in without being noticed, so she decided upon a different method; a Hearing Amplifying Charm. That way, she wouldn’t have to go in, or even press her ear to the door.

It was a bit overwhelming at first, what with being able to hear what was going on inside every other room as well, but after a while she managed to drown everyone else out, focusing in on the voices that were coming from the room in front of her.

She could hear the sounds of laughter coming from inside, along with glasses clinking together. They were making a toast.

“To Raphael’s impending marriage!” An unfamiliar voice announced. “May your union be long and beneficial.”

“Let us hope zat your brrroad is actually capable of prrroducing male heirrr, opposed to Cygnus’s vife, who can’t stop popping out girrrls.” The sheer crudeness of the thick russian accent could only belong to Antonin Dolohov.

Hermione scowled. The nerve of that vile, selfish, pig headed jerk! It was a good thing that Druella hadn’t come with her. Hearing that probably would have brought her to tears. It wasn’t her fault that she hadn’t given the Black’s a male heir. And the fact that Cygnus wasn’t even attempting to stand up for his wife… It was going to be hard not to want to strangle him the next time they met.

“Now, tell us why you ‘ave called us here, Tom. I assume eet wasn’t just to party,” this had to be either Evan or Raphael.

“You are indeed correct in that statement, Evan,” Tom began to speak. “As you may know, I have been hard at work within the British Ministry for many months now, trying to gain favor with the current Minister for Magic. It has not been easy to gain his trust, especially with outside forces attempting to interfere…”

There was a brief pause. Without even seeing what was going on, Hermione somehow knew that Tom had stopped to glare at Abraxas.

“As a result, he no longer trusts me. I read his mind to be sure. He thinks I’m too young and reckless, that I don't know what I'm doing."

Cries of protest sounded throughout the apartment. The Knights were less than pleased by this turn of events.

“Don’t be alarmed. I have devised a different strategy,” Tom silenced them. “Seeing as diplomacy failed, I say we take a bit more radical approach, and instead of waiting around for the next election, we take what we want by force.”

Hermione listened with bated breath, waiting for him to elaborate further. What did he mean by that? What did he have planned? Was this the backup plan he had mentioned to her in the diary? Whatever it was, it didn’t sound good.

“Gentlemen, I propose to you, that from this day forth, we will no longer be called the Knights of Walpurgis, but rather the Death Eaters. Under my orders, I would have you cause chaos and instill fear throughout the wizarding world. And I, already known as the hero who vanquished the mighty Grindelwald, would offer to eliminate these fiends for them. This would in turn earn me the praise and respect I need to achieve my goals.”

Hermione felt a shiver run through her. _The Death Eaters…_ That was a name she hadn’t heard in a long time… A name that she had hoped never to hear again… It was happening again. History was repeating itself, not exactly the same as before, but still happening regardless.

The idea was met with mixed reactions from the knights, soon to be death eaters. There were some like Dolohov who jumped at the prospect of causing trouble. However, there were also those who were hesitant about the idea.

“I don’t know, Tom,” Cygnus spoke up at last. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, the plan is brilliant, but wouldn’t it be risky for us? If anyone found out, it would completely ruin our reputations, as well as that of our families.”

“You would all be anonymous, your identities hidden beneath robes and full face masks. I would, of course, ensure that none of your names are connected to any of it, allowing you to carry on your ordinary lives in peace. No one outside this room need ever know.”

This seemed to be good enough for them, as no further protests were raised. They then proceeded to make another toast before slipping into more laid back conversation.

With nothing more of interest left to hear, Hermione chose this moment to leave, fleeing down the hallway she had come and back into the elevator, lifting the disillusionment on herself. It took every ounce of will power within herself to remain calm as she stepped out into the lobby, so as not to arouse the suspicion of the receptionist.

No sooner was she out, then she took off running and didn’t slow down until the Lestrange Apartment Complex was completely out of sight. Her initial instinct was to find a quick way back to England, perhaps a portkey or something, to go and warn Dumbledore and her grandfather. However, as she stopped to calm down and get a grip on her erratic state of mind, she realized that she couldn’t. It would take too long to portkey there and back, alarming Tom in the process when he arrived back at the hotel to find her missing.

For now, she needed to rejoin Druella at the cafe. Did she dare tell her what she had heard? Druella was sure to ask, seeing as that was the whole reason she had gone in the first place. Her friend had been just as suspicious as her about the men’s behavior.

After some thought, she resolved to tell her at least the basics, that Tom wanted to send her husband out on a dangerous mission that could potentially ruin their family’s reputation. Druella had just as much a right to know as she did, and she figured that perhaps she could try and encourage Cygnus to refuse.

One thing was certain, though. She couldn’t hold off much longer… She would have to confront Tom soon…

After Rosaline’s wedding, she decided. She would approach him about it when they were back home, once she notified Dumbledore and her grandfather. They needed to be warned before she did anything else. Also, she was curious to see what would happen. Who would join and who would back out? She hoped that not all of them would be so foolish.


	40. Confrontation

A shimmering blue light appeared before Hermione’s eyes, snapping her attention away from her book. Understanding immediately what it meant, she climbed up off the bed in which she had been reclined, rising just in time to catch sight of a majestic raven emerging from the light.

 _“There has just been an attack. Six masked men in black robes,”_ came her grandfather’s voice. _“A family of well known blood traitors was targeted. Cruciatus was used for the most part. One critically injured in an attempt to fight back. An unknown purple spell was used. Dumbledore and I agree that now is the time to act.”_

Hermione felt her heart drop in her chest as her grandfather’s Patronus faded from view just as quickly as it had come. They had gone through with it after all. She should have known that they would. How foolish she was to hope that they might change their minds.

Six masked men… That would mean that one of them had refused to go through with it. She could only hope that, for Druella’s sake, it was Cygnus. As for the attack itself, she wasn’t all that surprised that the Cruciatus Curse had been their weapon of choice, nor did it surprise her that their first target would be a family of blood traitors. The Death Eaters never were ones to pass up an opportunity to torture those they held in contempt.

And then there was the unknown purple spell… It wasn’t unknown to her in the slightest. She had only ever seen one such spell before. There was no doubt in her mind that the Death Eater who had cast it was none other than Antonin Dolohov.

They were right. Now was the time to act. They couldn’t allow these attacks to continue, not when people’s lives were at risk. If the Death Eaters were willing to go so far as to torture and injure people, then it was only a matter of time before they started killing as well. Maybe by accident at first, but eventually they would stop caring. Who knows, Tom might even order them to kill, if he grew desperate enough.

Flinging herself back onto the bed, she struggled to calm the war raging inside of her head. She had done all that she could, given Tom so many chances to stop this madness, hoping that her presence and influence would be enough and even delayed the inevitable confrontation as long as she could, but it didn’t seem to make any difference.

Her time was up… She would have to face him…

She stayed there for a while, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for him to return home from work. Glancing over at the clock on the nightstand, she realized that she still had a good half hour left to go. In order to make the time go by faster, she returned to her book to try and read some more. That didn’t work, much to her frustration, as her mind was too distracted, her eyes constantly glancing back over at the clock to see how much time had passed.

Forcing herself to think of something else, she reflected on how her visit with Nicholas Flamel had gone only a few days prior. She received a warm welcome from Nicholas and his wife Perenelle, who were wonderful people. Despite their fame, they were quite down-to-earth, and didn’t consider themselves any better or worse than anyone else.

Despite being over six-hundred years old, you could clearly tell that the couple were still madly in love. They looked at each other as if they meant the world. It warmed her heart to witness. She had always admired that kind of eternal love, and wished to find such love even herself. Sadly, she wasn’t sure if that was going to happen with the way things were going.

The pair asked her many questions about herself to get to know her on a more personal level, and she did so in return as well. After dinner, which was positively delicious in her opinion and reminded her of Mrs. Weasley’s cooking, she got to the purpose of her visit and informed Nicholas that she had come to accept his apprenticeship in person.

With that, the arrangements were made for her to begin her apprenticeship, which he warned her could last up to four years, and would begin in a couple of weeks. Then came the debate over her living arrangements. Perenelle had offered her their guest bedroom, but Hermione turned down the offer, not wanting to intrude upon them.

As far as she could see, her only options were to either rent an apartment nearby, or portkey back and forth from Britain to France every day or so. The latter option didn’t sound too appealing to be honest, but she was still deciding. In the end, it would all depend on what happened with Tom. If things went well, she would consider making the extra effort to ensure that she could return to him most nights. If not…

Just then, she heard the sound of the front door opening down stairs. Hermione jumped up at the sound, her heartbeat accelerating as she knew it would only be a matter of moments before he made it to his, or rather their, bedroom. She had never felt so nervous at the prospect of seeing him before. Well, aside from their first meeting, perhaps.

A lump formed in her throat as his footsteps grew closer and closer. This was it. There could be no backing down from this. It had to end, one way or another. She shoved it down quickly, managing to school her features mere moments before the door opened and Tom stepped inside.

“Welcome home, Tom,” she greeted him with a forced grin. “How was your day?”

Unlike hers, Tom’s grin actually seemed to be genuine. Slipping out of his Unspeakable robe, he pressed a quick kiss to her lips as he passed, making his way over to the wardrobe. “It went surprisingly well actually. I’m finally starting to see some results in my plan.”

With his back turned to her, she let her grin slip. How could he be so happy after having ordered the torture of a family of muggle and muggleborn sympathizers? Again, she was reminded of the promises he had made to her when he first formed the Knights of Walpurgis. He told her we wanted to create a better world for the muggleborns, where they were better integrated into society. It was almost as if he had completely disregarded that promise.

“Did you hear about the awful attack on that family?” she asked.

Tom’s shoulders tensed at that. “Yes, I did. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement sent out a group of Aurors to help, but the damage was already done by the time they arrived. The perpetrators got away.”

“Of course they did. You saw to that, didn’t you?” She couldn’t keep up the facade any longer.

The robe slipped out of his fingers, landing in a heap at his feet. Slowly, he turned back to face her, his expression remained neutral for the most part, save for the hint of panic in his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her hips. “Drop the act, Tom. I know all about the Death Eaters and your involvement in the whole ordeal. I also know that you used the Cruciatus Curse on both Abraxas and McGonagall.”

“Who told you?”

“If you must know, I found out all on my own. I knew you were up to something when you left with Cygnus, so I followed you to Raphael’s Apartment,” she told him. “Bachelor Parties don’t generally take place at nine in the morning, you know.”

“And how did you find out that I used the Cruciatus Curse? I’m fairly certain you didn’t hear us talking about that during our meeting. Someone had to have told you.”

That she didn’t quite know how to explain. She didn’t think it would be a good idea to tell him about the seer. Still, she didn’t want to outright lie to him. He had a way of knowing when people were lying to him.

“I noticed how skittish Abraxas was acting around you at his wedding, and I will admit that I did approach him about it, but he refused to tell me, doubtlessly afraid of what you’d do to him if he did. Left with no other choice, I entered his mind and found what I was looking for.”

He didn’t reply at first. He just stared at her as if he was only truly seeing her for the first time.

“It would seem I underestimated you,” he admitted. “You truly are my equal, both in terms of power and cunning. I am impressed.”

“Don’t try to sweet talk your way out of this, Tom Marvolo Riddle!” she exclaimed, a bit of the anger welled up inside of her finally leaking out. “What could possibly possess you to make you want to torture innocent people?”

He cringed visibly at the use of his whole name. The only other person who used his whole name was Mary, and only when she was cross with him, much like she was at that moment.

“In my defense, I didn’t actually tell them to torture anyone, only to cause enough chaos to get the Ministry’s attention.”

“Yes, but I’m sure you had some idea what that chaos would consist of. I mean, have you met Antonin Dolohov, for merlin's sake? He’s ruthless and vile! And that curse he used is capable of causing great damage, and even death if performed correctly.”

“How do you know about-” he cut himself off, his eyes widening with realization. “He used it on you, didn’t he?”

She nodded. “A long time ago. I was fortunate enough to have been able to silence him, preventing him from speaking the incantation out loud.”

His eyes ignited with rage, his fists clenching as he reached for his wand, or rather the Elder Wand. “I’ll kill him!”

She remembered what Dumbledore said about the wand. The Elder Wand was corrupting him, feeding off the darkness that was present in his heart to begin with.

“You will do no such thing. I may not like Dolohov, but that doesn’t mean I want you to kill him for me,” she stood her ground, refusing to show him any fear. “Now, put that wretched wand away. You have no right to condemn him when you are just as guilty.”

He didn’t listen to her, keeping the wand clutched firmly in his hand. That alone spoke volumes to her. He was clinging to it as if his life depended on it. She could see just how seduced by the power he had become. If only she had seen this sooner.

“Oh really? You dare compare me to the brute who attacked you? Do you really think that lowly of me?”

“No, the problem is that I thought too highly of you! I’ve done nothing but believe in you these past eight years. I believed you when you promised me that you wouldn’t let yourself become like Emeric the Evil. I believed you when you told me that you wanted to make the wizarding world a better place, but now I’m not so sure.”

“I assure you, what I said hasn’t changed.”

“Then prove it to me. Put down the Elder Wand and disband the Death Eaters.”

He glanced down at the wand in his hand before looking back up at her. “I can’t do that, Hermione. I just need you to be patient with me for a while longer. Once my plans come to fruition, and I’ve become Minister for Magic, then I'll do whatever you want, but not now. I need to see this through.”

A hollow feeling took up residence inside her chest. She had hoped that this wouldn’t happen, that he would see reason, but it was clear to her now that it wasn’t to be. He refused to give up his plans. His decision had been made.

“You’ve chosen your own love of power over the power of love itself,” she thought aloud. “I should have known that you would. Did you ever even truly love me to begin with?”

“Hermione, I-”

"Accio Elder Wand."

Quickly picking up on what was happening as the wand started to pull out from under his grip, he started to struggle, increasing the strength of his grip until his knuckles we're bleach white with his bones.

"Accio Elder Wand!" She repeated, this time louder and with more feeling.

This time, he couldn’t hold on. The wand flew out of his hand and straight into hers.

The moment the Elder Wand entered her grasp, she felt an uneasy feeling wash over her. There was no moment of awe for her as there had been for Tom, but rather the complete opposite. She could sense all the darkness and hatred that had been fed into the wand over the years by its numerous previous owners. It was overwhelming, but she fought back against it with her own light. She wouldn’t let herself be taken by it as so many others had.

“Give it back!”

Tom moved to grab for it, but stopped dead in his tracks as she pointed it at his chest.

“That’s not the way the Elder Wand works, Tom. It belongs to me now.”

“And what do you intend to do with it?” he hissed. “Are you going to kill me so that I can’t go through with my plan?”

Hermione shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. Despite everything that he had done, she could not bring herself to kill him, nor could she bring herself to hate him. Luckily, her grandfather had shown her a different, yet still effective, method to put an end to him and his plans.

“Petrificus Totalus!”

Tom’s body seized up in an instant, his arms and legs snapping together. Hermione moved quickly to catch him before he could fall to the floor, dragging him over to the bed where she made him lie down flat on his back. With his jaw frozen, he was unable to talk. However, his eyes themselves were not. She tried not to look at them, for fear that they might make her change her mind and release him.

Leaving him there for the time being, she began to wave the wand around the room, pulling open her suitcase and levitating every last item of hers inside. The undetectable extension charm she had cast on it during her travels came in particularly handy when it came to cramming all of her books inside. She would have never been able to fit them all in there if not for that.

Once every last one of her belongings was gone from the room, she looked back at Tom. He was still where she had left him. She knew that her spells were highly effective, probably even more so with the Elder Wand, but she didn’t let herself become too confident in her own abilities. Tom was just as skilled as she was. If anyone could find a way to break free on his own, it was him.

It seemed weird, seeing the room without her things in it. Technically she had her own room across the hall, but she hadn’t actually used it in a while, not since she came back for Christmas. She wasn’t sure if the Riddles were aware of their sleeping arrangement. If so, they hadn’t mentioned it yet.

This would be the last time she ever stepped foot in this bedroom…

Setting her suitcase down next to the door, she started towards the bed again to finish what she needed to do. He was staring at her with wide, pleading eyes. This only made it more difficult for her. Tom had never pleaded with anyone for anything before.

“I’m so sorry to have to do this, but you’ve left me no choice.”

There were only two things left for her to take care of before she left. The first, was removing any and all items of potential threat from his possession. She had already taken the Elder Wand. That only left his diary and the Gaunt Family Ring. Summoning the diary to her, which emerged from the drawer of his desk in the corner of the room, she slid it into his pocket before reaching over to pull the ring off his finger.

She heard him let out a muffled sound, that was the most he could do to protest.

“I love you, Tom,” she told him, pressing one last quick kiss to his frozen lips. “You were the first person I ever gave my heart to willingly, and I fear that a part of it will always belong to you, whether you want it or not.”

Then, pulling back, she took a deep breath and aimed her new wand at him again for the final step.

“Obliviate.”

All emotion drained from his eyes as the effects of the spell washed over him. It broke her heart to do so, but she pushed through it regardless. Next she cast a False Memory Charm, replacing all the memories she had wiped away with ones that she felt were safe.

Much would remain the same. He would still be Tom Riddle, son of Tom Riddle Sr. and Merope Gaunt, and grandson to Thomas and Mary Riddle. However, everything involving Grindelwald and the Death Eaters had to go. He would still know that they existed, but if asked about them, and he surely would be, he would tell them that he wanted nothing to do with them.

Then there were the memories concerning her… As tempted as she was to simply remove the bad and let him keep his memories of her, she knew she ought not to. It would cause too many problems, and besides… She wasn’t sure she could bear to remain at his side, all the while living with the knowledge of all the horrible things he had done, as well as what she had done in order to stop him.

She was sure that she would forgive him one day, or at least she hoped she would, but for now it was best that she leave.

Once she was sure that everything was in place, she got up from the bed, tucked the Elder Wand away and swept out of the room with her suitcase, willing herself not to look back. The effects of the Body-Bind would be wearing off soon. Besides, she knew it was only a matter of time before everything caught up with her. She wanted to be alone to mourn her loss when that happened. There was no comfort that could be offered for this. It was something she was going to have to deal with, probably for the rest of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So, we're almost to the end of the story! I honestly can't believe I've gotten this far! It's been a ride! I'd like to thank you for reading this far, and to ask you to hang on for a bit longer. The story isn't over yet! I'm hoping to wrap it up in the next two chapters, give or take depending on how much I can fit in.


	41. Moving On

Explaining why she had modified Tom’s memories to the Riddles was no easy task, as she wasn’t sure exactly what to tell them. Hermione tried to be as vague as possible when telling them what happened; that Tom had done something wrong, giving her reason to do what she had.

They didn’t understand fully, and a part of her was relieved about that. She didn’t want to explain it to them in detail, knowing that they would no doubt fear him if she did. If there was one thing she wanted to leave Tom with, it was a family that loved him. She saw blatant evidence of this in Tom Sr.

“I thought you were different, but clearly I was wrong,” Tom Sr. stepped up to her, glaring at her with the same iciness in his eyes that his son had. “All you witches do is leave pain and destruction in your path. We would all be better off if you would just leave us alone.”

Mary tried to protest on her behalf, insisting that I must have had a good reason, and as much as she appreciated it, Hermione chose to take the blame. She wasn’t angry at Tom Sr. for accusing her of such, knowing that it stemmed from his own personal experiences.

“I give you my word that I will trouble your family no further,” Hermione assured them.

Then, bidding them farewell, she left. Though, she couldn’t deny that it hurt her to do so. Next to Tom, she would probably miss Mary the most, for she had become something like a grandmother to her.

At least she still had her grandfather…

The hard part may have been over, but there was still much work left to do before she could safely leave. There were still loose ends that needed to be tied up, and Hermione was nothing if not thorough. She couldn’t allow herself to leave before every last one was taken care of.

It felt only right that the first of many stops should be to visit her closest friend and goddaughters one last time. While there, she questioned Cygnus on the Death Eaters, and he affirmed her theory that he had been the one to refuse to join. Druella seemed proud of him for this, even going so far as to plant a kiss on his cheek right then and there. Bellatrix pulled a disgusted face, earning a slight giggle from the adults.

“Promise me that you’ll write,” Druella requested. “I would hate to lose a friend as good as you.”

Hermione nodded. “If you want me to. However, there is something I want to tell you before I go, something that I’ve kept secret from everyone for a long time.”

Both Cygnus and Druella raised a brow at that, exchanging curious glances. “What is it? You know you can tell us anything?”

“I’m not a half-blood as I led you to believe,” she admitted. “My parents were both muggles.”

Their eyes grew. “That would mean…”

She let out a sigh. “Yes, I am a muggleborn.”

They didn’t speak for quite some time as they stared at her in disbelief. She could only imagine how difficult this was for them. Learning that their good friend, someone they had known and trusted for years, was actually one of those they had been taught to despise.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you from the very beginning. It was a secret that Tom and I agreed to keep to ourselves. I knew that no one in Slytherin would give me a chance if they knew.”

Druella was the first to break from her shock, getting up and crossing over to her. For a split second, Hermione feared the worst, that she too would want nothing to do with her, ordering her out of their home and lives just like Tom Sr. had. She braced herself for it, but no such words ever came.

What Druella did next shocked Hermione. Taking hold of her hands, Druella pulled her up from her seat and enveloped her in a hug. The gesture meant more to Hermione than her friend would ever know. Unable to hold back her tears, she hugged her back with fervor, burying her face into her shoulder.

“Y-You don’t hate me?”

She felt Druella shake her head. “How could I ever hate you after everything you’ve done for me? You cared for me at a time when it seemed no one else did. I’m ashamed to say that you’re right. I probably wouldn’t have given you a chance had you told me right away, but now that I know you and what you’re capable of… Well, you’re not at all like what I was told.”

Cygnus on the other hand was a different story. Glancing over Druella’s shoulder at him, she saw the conflict written across his face. She wasn’t sure how much Druella’s family had pushed the whole pureblood supremacy idea, but she knew that with the Blacks, it was pushed strongly.

“Don’t worry, I won't jeopardize your place on the Black Family Tree,” Hermione assured him. “I understand the consequences of what my association with you would entail.”

Cygnus nodded his head, seeming a bit more at ease.

She didn’t stay for too long, warning them that while Tom would still likely remember them, he wouldn’t remember her and asked them to pretend as if she never existed with him. They agreed to do so.

Her next stop was Malfoy Manor, this time making an effort to actually spend time with Hera as well as Abraxas. After tea, she pulled Abraxas aside into his office for a bit more privacy. Feeling that it was now safe to do so, she unlocked the memory of her previous visit in his mind. He didn't say a word as she explained what had happened with Tom.

“You do realize that others will likely come along to try and continue what Tom started,” Abraxas pointed out. “Those of us who joined because we believe in the cause will not stop simply because our leader lost his memories.”

Hermione nodded her head. She had already thought of that. “That doesn’t really concern me. I’ve already helped put a stop to two of the darkest wizards the world has ever known. My work here ends with Tom.”

She was tired, in more than just the physical sense. Recent events had taken their toll on her and now that it was over, or at least would be over soon, she just wanted a break. She would do what she must and try to move on with her life. That was all that was left for her to do.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked sympathetically.

“Just… keep an eye on him, and try to forget about me as well.”

He shook his head. “I won’t forget about you, Hermione.”

She managed to give him a small smile as he reached out to hug her. As strange as it sounded, she was actually going to miss him. She never thought she would be able to truthfully say that about a Malfoy.

“Take care of yourself, Abraxas.”

“You too.”

With her own personal business taken care of, she moved onto her next task; hiding all of the powerful relics that Tom had or would have acquired. She already had the Elder Wand, along with two of what would have been his horcruxes. There was only one more known horcrux that she knew of, and she knew exactly who had it.

Hepzibah Smith…

While Hermione had no intention of taking the locket for herself, deeming that it was in no immediate danger, she did go and check up on the overweight witch just to make sure. Hepzibah was still alive, and appeared to be in good enough health. Though Hepzibah was still a frequent customer to Borgin and Burkes, she appeared to have no connection to Tom Riddle, a change that had occurred due to Tom’s different choice of career.

Then there was the Elder Wand. Many ideas had crossed her mind, each of which she had quickly decided against. Her first thought had been to ask Dumbledore to take it from her, as he was the one who would have taken it, had he defeated Grindelwald himself, but her grandfather talked her out of it, insisting that a man who invaded the mind of an eleven-year old girl without her consent was not to be trusted with that much power. She had to agree with that.

After discussing it with her grandfather, they decided to take the relics down to Gringotts and lock them away in the Renshaw Family Vault where they could be sure that they would be safe. The Elder Wand reached out to her, screaming at her not to lock it away, trying to tempt her to keep it in every way it could think of, but it was no use. Hermione didn’t want the wretched wand, and had never intended to keep it to begin with. It was better off being forgotten.

“Is there anything else that needs to be taken care of?” Kieran asked her as they were leaving the bank.

Hermione shook her head. “It’s time to leave.”

* * *

The weeks that followed Hermione’s departure from Britain were some of the most difficult she had ever endured, dragging on at an alarmingly slow pace. She couldn’t sleep, tormented by her thoughts and by her grief. She ate very little, pouring herself into her work during the day in order to distract herself. It wasn’t healthy, she knew as much, but she didn’t dare stop. This was the only way she knew to cope.

Aside from her personal struggles, things were going well. Her and her grandfather had settled into an apartment not even a block away from the Flamel’s home. Though they had two bedrooms, the second was used as a storage room. Kieran preferred to use the basement, as it was much more sound proof and light proof.

Her apprenticeship was also going well. Nicholas Flamel was a top notch mentor. He was kind and patient with her as she struggled to grasp it at first. Alchemy was by no means an easy craft, in fact it was possibly even more complicated than potion making. However, Hermione enjoyed it, as it challenged her mind and prompted her to think outside of the box.

Just like Tom used to…

No matter how many times she tried to push thoughts of him from her mind, they just seemed to keep coming. She wondered what he was doing. Whether he was happy or unhappy. There were many times in which she was tempted to seek out information on him, but with help from her grandfather, she managed to restrain herself.

Kieran had been a great help to her through this troubling time for her, as he understood all too well how it felt to lose someone you loved. He didn’t share any details with her about how he had managed to cope with his own loss, and frankly she didn’t think she wanted to know, but he reassured her that, though it might never completely pass, the pain would lessen with time.

For the sake of her well being, she hoped it would lessen sooner rather than later. Unfortunately, she soon discovered that it was not to be…

Her sleep had just started to improve when she started to feel ill. She would wake up in the mornings feeling dizzy and nauseous, forcing her to make a mad dash towards the bathroom to vomit what little food was in her system from the night before. Then, she would feel better for a bit, that is until she went to eat something else. It was almost as if her body had become completely repulsed by food in general, as she ended up running back to the bathroom to vomit after almost every meal.

Determined not to let it get in the way of her work, she started to take pepper-up potions, and while they did relieve her of the sickness for a while, it never lasted long enough. More often than none, she would end up puking in an alley on the way home, unable to hold it back any longer.

After a full week of this, Hermione finally gave in and went to see a doctor. The result was far from what she had been expecting.

“Congratulations, Mademoiselle Granger,” said the Mediwitch. “You’re pregnant.”

Hermione didn’t reply for the first while, nor did she even move, frozen with shock. Did she just hear what she thought she heard? Surely not. The Mediwitch must have been mistaken. Either that or she had heard her wrong.

“I’m sorry, I’m what?”

“You’re pregnant. Five weeks along, from what zee tests reveal,” the Mediwitch clarified

It felt as though the world had come crashing down on her. How had this happened? Well, obviously she knew how, but how had it happened when she had always been so careful. Then it hit her. Five weeks… That would have been while she was in Paris for Rosaline’s wedding. She had an idea when exactly it would have happened, as she could recall one night in particular when she had been a bit less than careful.

“I take it zis ees unexpected for you?”

Hermione nodded her head, not knowing what to say.

The Mediwitch ran a few more tests to make sure everything else was alright, and gave her a prescription slip for a potion that was specifically designed to combat morning sickness. Hermione asked if she could have the recipe for it instead so that she could make some for herself at home. The Mediwitch agreed to get it for her, and sent her off on her way.

Her grandfather was waiting for her when she stepped out of the examination room, his eyes filled with concern for her. She didn’t even bother to ask if he had heard as she flung herself into his arms, soon breaking down crying. There was no doubt that he had heard every word the Mediwitch said.

“I’ll never be able to forget about him now!” she sobbed.

“Shh, it’ll be alright,” he assured her, rubbing her back in soothing circles. “We’ll get through this.”

He let her cry it all out for a while before he took her home, giving her a bit of time on her own as he went to make her a cup of tea.

She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it. She was scared, that much was certain. Here she was, unmarried and pregnant, in a time where such was highly frowned upon. If she thought the treatment Druella received was bad, she could only imagine how bad it would be for her.

She was angry, both at Tom and at herself. If only he hadn’t let himself grow corrupted by power, then she wouldn’t be in this situation. She might still be pregnant, but at least she’d have the comfort of knowing that he was actually there. As it was, he didn’t even know she existed, let alone the fact that she was pregnant with his baby.

And she was mad at herself for letting this happen in the first place. It took two willing participants, most of the time anyway, to create a child. The fault wasn’t solely on Tom. She had played her part. She had agreed to make an exception to wanting to wait. Then again, she never had been able to deny Tom much. He was a slytherin after all. He always found a way to get what he wanted.

“Curse him and his bloody charismatic arse!” she muttered.

And yet, a part of her felt hopeful about it. She may have lost Tom forever, but she had been left with a tiny being that was his just as much as hers. A part of Tom was in this child, and as scary as that thought was, considering everything that had happened leading up to her obliviating him, it did make her feel a bit happy.

* * *

Months passed and Hermione’s pregnancy progressed smoothly for the most part. She had been scared at first that her apprenticeship would be ruined because of it, but Nicholas and Perenelle were nothing but accepting, and didn’t seem to think any worse of her because of it.

“Children are a blessing,” Perenelle assured her. “Yes, it will change things, but it doesn’t mean you must give up all your ambitions.”

And so it was settled that she would remain as Flamel’s apprentice. Her schedule changed over time, as she found herself growing tired sooner than before and had to sit down much more as well, but still she managed to maintain good progress.

Hermione stayed out of public for the most part for the duration of it, hiding behind big, loose fitting clothing when she went to work each morning. At her grandfather’s insistence, she had agreed to take his last name, both for the child’s sake as well as her own. Though she herself insisted on going under the name Hermione Granger-Renshaw. She decided that she would let her child choose for itself which last name it would take.

Hermione insisted upon learning the gender in order to plan ahead and get everything that she would need ready. She had always been organized like that. You can only imagine her shock when the ultrasound showed she was having twins; a boy and a girl! It was enough to make her feel light headed for a while.

“Well, looks like we might have to look into a bigger house in the near future,” her grandfather said.

He definitely had a point. Their apartment would work for a while, as they did have an extra bedroom to put both the babies in, but she feared that they would need more space once they started to grow up… Much more space...

As the latter months of her pregnancy dragged on, Hermione found herself unable to work, much to her frustration. Just walking down the stairs sometimes was enough to drain her energy, and she often started to feel dizzy when she remained on her feet too long.

And so, most days she would make it as far as the living room, where she would lean back on the couch with a blanket over her legs, which were always cold as of late, and read a book. She had read in one of the many pregnancy and childcare books that she got that reading to her unborn children would promote brain activity and help with early literacy skills. That was all the encouragement she needed to read a mountain load of books to them.

Then came the delivery itself… Contractions started to hit at 36 weeks, which she had read was entirely common for twins. Twin pregnancies hardly ever went to full term. She wasn’t particularly worried, as childbirth in the wizarding world wasn’t exactly fraught with risks. Her doctor was highly trained and trustworthy, as were her team or nurses. She would be in good hands. Still, the pain was more than she had expected.

She cursed Tom’s name a lot that day, wishing that she hadn’t altered his memories so that she could strangle him right then and there for getting her into this. Alas, she didn’t have Tom to strangle. However, she did have Druella, who remained by her side throughout the whole process, holding her hand.

“Don’t worry, I won’t leave you, Hermione,” Druella assured her. “You were there for me, and now I’m here for you.”

Hermione nodded her head, gritting her teeth through the pain. She had never felt more grateful towards Druella.

After hours and hours of pain and then two rounds of pushing, her children finally made their debut into the world. The first one, the boy, came out remarkably calm. At first the nurses were concerned that something was wrong with him, as he wasn’t crying like most babies did, but with a couple of tests, they deduced that there was absolutely nothing wrong with him. Then came the second one, the girl. Unlike her brother, she came out kicking and screaming, and didn’t calm down until she was swaddled in a blanket and laid down across her mother’s chest, her twin brother laid beside her.

Hermione’s eyes flooded with tears, which she quickly wiped away as she pulled her head up to get a good look at them. One look and she knew she would never be the same. They were without a doubt the most beautiful things she had ever seen, both with wisps of dark hair on their heads.

“Congratulations, Mademoiselle,” said the nurse. “You ‘ave a beautiful son and daughter.”

Her heart swelled with love at the two tiny beings that she and Tom had created. Every moment of pain she had spent cursing his name was now long forgotten. She only felt bad that Tom wasn’t there to see them as well.

“Shall I send in zee gentleman waiting outside?” another nurse asked.

Hermione nodded her head, her eyes never leaving the babies on her chest. She was referring to her grandfather, not that she could call him such at the present time. That would be a bit troublesome to explain. She didn’t know who the nurses thought he was. Surely not the father, as they had all heard her cursing the name of Tom Marvolo Riddle. Maybe they thought he was a brother or some other close relation?

A few moments later, the door opened and in came Kieran, his wide eyes drawn to her. With a tired smile, she motioned him over. Druella moved to the other side to give him room. He just stood there and stared at the two babies for the longest time before a grin finally tugged at his lips.

“Have you decided on names for my Godchildren yet?” Druella asked, cooing at the babies.

Hermione giggled, even though it hurt to do so. Of course she had named Druella as their Godmother. Who else? As for their Godfather... Ordinarily she would have chosen Cygnus, but he had been distant towards her ever since she told him the truth of her blood status. With that in mind, she instead chose his brother, Alphard, whom she had grown considerably close with in recent months.

Glancing at the tiny, peaceful faces of the sleeping newborns, she made her decisions.

“My son will be named Sebastian Thomas.”

The name Sebastian was chosen in honor of her own parents, who had named her after a character from Shakespeare’s works. The name Hermione had come from ‘The Winter’s Tale’ and the name Sebastian had come from ‘Twelfth Night’. And then of course, Thomas was chosen in honor of his own father.

She could practically see Tom rolling his eyes at her choice. He always hated having such a common name.

“And my daughter will be named Evelyn Marie.”

At that, Kieran’s eyes snapped towards her. “You mean...?”

Hermione nodded. Her daughter was named in honor of both her grandmothers. She never got to meet Evelyn Bluebell, but from what she had heard of her from Kieran, she was confident that they would have gotten along wonderfully. And Marie… Well, it was only right that she be named in some way after Mary Riddle.

She wasn’t sure if she was just seeing things, but she could have sworn she saw a small drop of blood leak out the corner of her grandfather’s eye.

“I think that’s a perfect name for her.”

A little while later, a nurse came in to weigh them and fill out their birth certificates, which she then handed to Hermione.

_Sebastian Thomas Renshaw_  
_Born on March 17th, 1947, at 8:10 AM_  
_Weighing 5.2 lb_  
_To_  
_Tom Marvolo Riddle & Hermione Jean Granger-Renshaw_

_Evelyn Marie Renshaw_  
_Born on March 17th, 1947, at 8:25 AM_  
_Weighing 5.1 lb_  
_To_  
_Tom Marvolo Riddle & Hermione Jean Granger-Renshaw_

Hermione smiled sadly at the slips of paper as she glanced at the babies who were now asleep in their bassinets next to her bed. Her children would grow up knowing who they were and where they came from, she promised them that, but they would never meet the man who had fathered them. And if by some miracle they did, he wouldn’t even know who they were. It was a tragic card that they had been dealt, but there was nothing to be done about it now.

She vowed right then and there that she would be the best mother she could possibly be to them to make up for that fact.


	42. Eleven Years Later

The Kings Cross Train Station was packed with muggles, and unbeknownst to them, families of young witches and wizards who slipped past them into a brick wall to get to Platform 9¾. If the busy muggles had stopped to listen to the chatter around them, they might have heard children enthusing to their parents about how excited they were to return for another year at Hogwarts. Or they might have heard the parents gossiping about the return of a former war heroine from abroad. They might have noticed how fingers pointed at one family in particular as they emerged from a hearse of all vehicles.

"Mummy, have you seen my copy of 'Hogwarts: A History'? asked an eleven-year old girl with dark bushy hair and ocean blue eyes, climbing out of the strange transport.

After her came a woman with equally as bushy hair, presumably in her early to mid thirties. A lot had changed for Hermione in the last eleven years, the most obvious change being that she was now the mother to a pair of troublesome twins.

"Yes, Evie, It fell into the back with your grandfather after you tried to throw it at your brother's head," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Seb deserved it for saying I'd be sorted into Hufflepuff!" Evelyn insisted, as if it was an insult of the worst kind. "As if I'd be a badger. Not nearly exciting enough!"

"I was only joking," said the twin brother, Sebastian, climbing out last and handing the book back to her. Unlike his sister, he had more tame brown hair and brown eyes, taking more after his mother in terms of coloring. “You know we'll probably end up in Slytherin like the rest of our family."

Hermione sighed. They were usually good during long car rides, both content to sit and read, but this had been an exception. The two of them had been arguing over which house they would be sorted into the entire trip up to London.

"That's not true. Family has nothing to do with where you're sorted. The sorting hat takes your own desires into consideration. Take me for example. The sorting hat wanted to put me into Gryffindor, but I asked it to put me in Slytherin because all my friends were there."

Both twins stared at their mother with wide eyes. "You were going to be in Gryffindor?"

Hermione nodded her head, kneeling down so that she was level with the twins. "It doesn't matter which house you're sorted into. No matter what anyone might try to tell you, each house has produced fine upstanding witches and wizards, and would be lucky to have you. Can you remember that?"

They nodded their heads.

Once she was sure that they understood, they went to the back of the hearse to unload all the luggage surrounding the sealed coffin in the middle.

"Bye, Grandpa!" The twins called as they started steering their trolleys away. "See you at Christmas!"

"Try not to destroy the school!" came Kieran's muffled reply.

Hermione felt bad about leaving him like that. He had insisted upon coming with to see the kids off, but sadly this was as close as he could get, short of them hauling his coffin into the station and onto the platform. That was likely to draw even more unwanted attention to them. She hoped to work on a potion that might alleviate that problem sometime in the near future.

It was strange for her to think that her kids were going off to Hogwarts when it felt like only yesterday when she stepped through Platform 9¾ herself. It admittedly left her feeling a bit emotional. Unlike so many other magical children, she had made sure that hers knew all about the secret platform and everything they could expect on the Hogwarts Express. However, not enough to ruin the thrill of it for them.

Evelyn was the first to go through the platform, running at it head on. Sebastian on the other hand was a bit more patient, waiting to go through with his mother instead.

The sight that they were met with on the other side took the twins breath away. Hermione smiled at their expressions, remembering her own first time to Hogwarts and the excitement she felt at the prospect of going to a place where other people actually understood her. Of course, she was still treated like something of an outcast, at least until she met Harry and Ron.

Her second time was vastly different. Even though she was pretending to be just as clueless and surprised as any other child at the time, the novelty hadn’t worn off completely. In a way, it was nice to experience it all a second time. Not too many people could truthfully make that claim.

Then, there was the fact that she had actually started Hogwarts with a group of friends. That seemed to make a world of a difference. Unlike the first time, she wasn’t friendless and alone, spending hours crying in the girl’s bathroom. Instead she was having fun, competing with Tom to see who could get the better grades and making sure Abraxas didn’t crash his broom too many times because of her.

“Hermione!” a familiar voice called.

Speaking of friends…

Hermione turned just in time to catch sight of Druella running towards her. How that woman could run in 4 inch heels was beyond her, but somehow she managed to do, all the while appearing as graceful as a swan. Regardless, she went to meet her friend half-way, accepting the hug that she was soon engulfed in.

“This is so exciting!” Druella exclaimed. “Our children will be attending Hogwarts together!”

Hermione giggled. Glancing over her friend’s shoulder, she saw Cygnus approaching with their three daughters. Cygnus had changed a lot over the years, and his appearance greatly reflected it. His hair, which he had once been careless with, allowing it to grow long and messy, was now shortened and slicked back. In addition, he had started to grow a mustache that made him look oddly like Clark Gable.

Then there were the girls; Bellatrix, Andromeda and Narcissa.

Druella had brought her daughters to visit a few times over the years, and one thing that had become increasingly evident was their incredibly close bond. Where one sister went, the other two followed. They were virtually inseparable. The twins got along with them for the most part, especially with Andromeda and Narcissa, who were closer in age to them.

It reassured her to know that her children would already know a couple people at school. Though, none of the sisters would be in the same year as them. Bellatrix was already in fourth year, and Andromeda was going into second year. Narcissa wouldn’t be starting Hogwarts for another year.

“What in Merlin’s name are you wearing?” Druella asked, pulling back a step to examine her friend’s outfit.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “They’re called jeans, Druella. They may not seem very proper, but they're comfortable and liberating.”

Druella just shook her head.

“I’m surprised you decided to return to Britain,” Cygnus claimed. “I had assumed that you would have sent the twins to Ilvermorny, seeing as you were already living in America.”

After she finished her four-year apprenticeship with Nicholas Flamel, she had decided to return to America, as there was a better market for Alchemy. There she had built up a name for herself as a noted alchemist, discovering interesting concoctions that aided the day to day lives of others. Some of her more well known creations were the Love Potion Antidote, an improved version of the Elixir of Life, as well as the Wolfsbane Potion. In addition, she had created a foundation to help combat the discrimination and abuse that certain magical creatures were forced to endure. She called it the Society for the Protection of Magical Creatures, or S.P.M.C. for short.

It was difficult at times to juggle her career and raising her children, and there were plenty of times she wished she had a time turner to fit everything in, but by some miracle she managed to do so. Initially she had planned to send the twins to Ilvermorny when the time came, but…

“I suppose there’s no reason for me to keep it secret, as you’re probably going to find out soon enough,” Hermione said with a sigh. “Dumbledore offered me a job as the new Potions Mistress. He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“You mean, you’ll be replacing old Sluggy?” Bellatrix asked, a grin spreading across her face.

“Yes, that way I’ll be able to keep an eye on the lot of you and make sure you don’t get into too much trouble.”

“Who, us? We’re perfect angels. Isn’t that right, Andy?”

Andromeda rolled her eyes at her sister. “I might be, but you’re more like a devil.”

"Why you little!"

A fight broke out between the two sisters shortly after, with Narcissa and the twins left on the sideline to cheer them on. Hermione knew she ought to break it up, but she was too amused by it all. If this was what she could expect once they got to Hogwarts, it was sure to be an eventful year.

Eventually, Cygnus stepped in to separate them.

“Stop that this instant! You’re embarrassing the Noble House of Black!” he scolded them.

“Sorry, Papa,” they said in unison.

Hermione would have never thought it would happen, but it would seem that Cygnus had been successfully brainwashed by his family’s strict beliefs. He didn’t sound like the boy who had taken her aside and healed her cheek after his mother slapped it. He sounded like any other member of the Black Family.

Just then, the whistle blew, signaling that they would be departing soon. Parting ways with the Black’s, Hermione ushered the twins over to the baggage car to store all their luggage before climbing aboard the train.

“Why don’t you two go and find someplace to sit,” she suggested. “I have to go and check in with the driver.”

“We’ll save you a seat, mum,” Sebastian promised.

Evelyn nodded her head in agreement.

She smiled down at the two of them. They had come into her life unexpectedly, leaving chaos constantly in their wake, but she loved them more than words could describe. She could no longer imagine her life without them.

"Thank you, my loves. I shouldn't be too long."

Pressing a kiss to each of their heads, she headed off towards the front of the train. This particular task proved more difficult than she had expected, however, as the students were scrambling about, either to find an empty compartment or to say a final goodbye to their families. She had to literally fight her way against the stream. By the time she finally reached her destination, she looked as if she had been wrestling with the two eldest Black Sisters.

The driver chuckled at the sight of her. "You alright there, Professor?"

"If by that you mean I'm miraculously still in one piece, then yes," she answered, taking a moment to straighten her clothing and pull her hair back out of her face. "Has it always been this bad, because I don't remember dealing with such a stampede during my years at Hogwarts."

"From what I recall, you and your friends had their own private compartment that no one else dared enter," said the driver, giving her a knowing look.

That was true. Perhaps she would have to keep that tradition alive and suggest it to the twins. They always jumped at the chance to use magic.

She waited until the train had pulled out of the station and the students had settled down before heading back out, glancing into each and every compartment in search of her kids. After a while she found Evelyn sitting with a group of boys that she would have recognized anywhere.

Seated, or rather lounged, on one side of her daughter was a young Sirius Black, and on the other side was a lanky, messy haired boy that looked remarkably like Harry save for the eyes. This could only be James Potter.

"Oh, there you are, Mummy!" Evie exclaimed. "I was just telling my new friends about how you're going to be teaching us potions."

Her head was spinning. What were the odds that her daughter would meet and befriend the Marauders? More than that, what were the Marauders even doing alive at this time? They weren't supposed to be attending Hogwarts until the 1970s.

Then again, she reminded herself that this was an alternate timeline. Technically speaking, neither she nor the twins would have been alive at that point in her original timeline either. A great many things had changed. There was no Voldemort, no early signs of a war on the horizon. And now she found that the Marauders had been born a dozen years earlier. Was this change really brought on by something she had done or was it just the will of fate?

"Is something wrong, Mum?" Evelyn asked.

Whatever the case was, Hermione supposed there was nothing to be done about it now. It wasn't necessarily a bad change, though it did make her wonder how it would further impact the future as she knew.

"I just got lost in my memories for a moment," she assured her daughter before turning to face her new group of friends. It made her smile to see them all so young and innocent, and most importantly alive. "It's nice to meet you all. I look forward to teaching you for the next seven years."

It was then that she noticed that, while Evelyn was there, Sebastian was nowhere in sight.

"Where's your brother?"

"He left with the other two who were sitting with us before," Evelyn began to explain. "James and the greasy haired boy got into an argument over which house was better; Slytherin or Gryffindor. Seb, of course, sided with him on Slytherin."

"Who would want to be in Slytherin?" James asked. "I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"My whole family have been in Slytherin," Sirius said, looking rather uncomfortable about the topic.

"So have mine," said Evelyn.

Hermione could have also added the fact that they were currently sitting with one of the last members of Salazar Slytherin’s bloodline, but she thought better of it, not wanting to bring blood status into the mix as well.

One thing was for sure though; Fleamont clearly hadn't taught his son any better. She couldn't help but wonder if he even spoke to his brother, Charlus, anymore?

James' eyes widened underneath his glasses as he turned to look over at the other two on the bench with him. "Blimey, and I thought you two seemed all right!"

"Family has nothing to do with what house you're sorted into," Evelyn quoted Hermione’s earlier words. “The sorting hat places you where it thinks you will do best, based on your thoughts and desires, not because your family says you have to be in a certain house.”

Sirius grinned at her. “In that case, maybe I’ll break the tradition.”

Evelyn grinned back. “Maybe I will too.”

Hermione couldn’t help but grin as well as the tension was quickly forgotten about and the group fell into a much more pleasant conversation. Not wanting to disturb them, she slipped away to go and find her son. She had a pretty good idea as to where to find him and who she would find him with.

* * *

Hours later, they arrived at Hogwarts. There was something surreal about entering it’s gates, for once not as a student, but as a teacher. It was strange to be among the first to arrive at the school, for once not seated along one of the four long tables, but at the table at the very end of the room with the rest of the teachers.

Yet, it was also strange because it was slowly starting to resemble the way it once was in her original time. Dumbledore was seated at the head of the table, now Headmaster of Hogwarts. McGonagall was there, seated at Dumbledore’s right as always, once again as the Transfiguration Professor, and much to her surprise, Hagrid was there as well.

“Hagrid! It’s so good to see you again,” she said as she went up to him. “I didn’t know you worked at Hogwarts.”

He nodded his head, a big smile on his face. “I was working in Romania with dragons fer a while - beautiful creatures by the way. Was a right shame ter leave em’, but I got a bit homesick. Dumbledore offered me a job teachin’ Care of Magical Creatures.”

It was good to see him so happy, and she was glad that he had gotten some actual training at handling dragons this time around. Maybe he wouldn’t try to raise a baby dragon in his house this time… Though, she doubted he had abandoned his ways of smuggling creatures onto the grounds completely.

Soon enough, the older students began to make their way in, heading to their tables, talking amongst themselves as they waited for the first years to arrive. When McGonagall stepped out of the hall, they all knew that it wouldn't be too much longer.

Hermione was pleased to see a rather large group of first years. Evelyn came in with the two boys she had made friends with on the train, and appeared to be laughing at something one of them had said. Sebastian, on the other hand, came in later down the line with Severus Snape and Lily Evans, whom she had the pleasure of getting to know on the ride up. Snape was a bit grumpy at first, as per usual, but he warmed up a bit once he found out she would be teaching potions.

It would be most interesting to teach the boy who would have grown up to become her Potions Master.

Sebastian’s face scrunched up in confusion as the hat began to sing, reminding her of yet another boy who had found it weird. He seemed a bit nervous about the ordeal, whereas his sister seemed confident and unbothered. They might be twins, but they couldn’t be more different when it came to their personalities.

One after the other, first years were called up for their sorting. The first name of interest to be called was Sirius Black. It was no surprise when he was sorted into Gryffindor, along with the rest of the Marauders. Poor Remus looked like he was ready to make a run for it with everyone staring at him. She couldn’t help but wonder if he knew of her Wolfsbane Potion? She made a mental note to approach Dumbledore about that later.

A little while later, Lucius Malfoy came forward, a stupid smug look on his face when he was sorted into Slytherin. There was something about the Malfoy’s that always left her with the urge to punch them in the face. Lucius was no exception, even if she was friends with his father. Sadly, she knew that she could only dream about doing so. It wouldn’t look good for a teacher to punch a student.

Then, finally came the moment she had been waiting for.

“Renshaw, Evelyn!”

The hat was set down on her daughter’s head, and Hermione was on the edge of her seat in anticipation. It was exciting and surprisingly fulfilling to witness one’s own children being sorted.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The Gryffindor table roared with applause as Evelyn jumped up from the stool, practically skipping over to the table. Sirius and James were clapping and cheering particularly loud as they welcomed her with open arms. Evelyn seemed all too pleased with the sorting hat’s choice, and that was all that mattered. Besides, Hermione had already had a suspicion that she would end up in her original house. She was definitely intelligent, and most certainly ambitious, but she was also very bold and craved excitement and adventure.  
“Renshaw, Sebastian!”

Sebastian turned out to be a hat stall, taking far longer with his sorting than his sister’s had. Hermione wondered what was going on inside his mind at that moment. It was almost as if there was an argument going on in his head. She could see the conflict in his features.

“SLYTHERIN!”

His face fell the moment the sorting hat had spoken those words. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry as he rose from the stool and slowly started towards the Slytherin table, who were giving him a decent amount of applause as well. His eyes searched the room until they met his sister’s. She gave him an apologetic shrug before turning back to her new group of friends. Looking rather dejected, Sebastian turned away as well.

As much as it made sense for Sebastian to be a Slytherin, being the more calm and calculating one, and for Evelyn to be in Gryffindor, she didn’t like the idea that they were in rival houses. They had always been together before then, never separated in such a way, and she feared what this would do to the close sibling bond they had always shared. Would it survive or would it drive a wedge between them?

She supposed that much like everything else, only time would tell. All she could do was try to help them and hope for the best.

* * *

Later that night, she was in her newly appointed chambers, once more back in the dungeons, unpacking her stuff and arranging it the way she liked it, when there came a knock at her door. You could only imagine her surprise when she opened it to find Minerva McGonagall standing on the other side.

“McGonagall, what a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?” Hermione greeted her fellow professor, though it was still weird to think of her as such.

“Headmaster Dumbledore asked me to fetch you for the start-of-term staff party. He believes it will be a good opportunity for everyone to get to know each other better, as most of us are new to the staff,” McGonagall explained. “In addition, he has invited many influential figures; the entire board of governors as well as some of the former professors.”

A start-of-term staff party? She had never heard of such a thing occurring at Hogwarts before. Then again, she had never been a professor before either. Curfew had already passed by this time, meaning that the students, save for the prefects, were all settled into their common rooms for the night.

“Would it make any difference if I said I was busy?”

McGonagall shook her head. “I assure you, if that were the case, I wouldn’t be attending either.”

Well, it was a relief to know that at least she wasn’t the only one being dragged into this. She had intended to spend the rest of the evening looking over her curriculum for the term, but she supposed getting out and socializing wouldn’t kill her. Merlin knew her social life had been lacking substantially in the last eleven years.

With a sigh, she grabbed her favorite red wool sweater and pulled it on before following McGonagall out, shutting the door behind her.

They walked in silence for the first while. Hermione wanted to start up a conversation with her, but she didn't know how to do so. They hadn't spoken in years, not since before she left Britain, and even then, they'd never been particularly close.

"I never thanked you properly that day you came to visit me at the ministry," McGonagall surprised her by taking the initiative herself. "I don't know exactly what it was you did, but it worked. He never bothered me again afterwards. In fact, on the rare occasions that our paths crossed, he actually seemed quite pleasant. It was as if he didn't even recognize me."

Hermione shrugged. "I did what I felt was right."

She tried to hide the fact that the mere mention of it still made her heart ache. Time had healed the wound to some extent, but not fully. She still missed him… There wasn't a day in which the selfish part of her didn't regret what she did.

"I know we never got along well, but I want you to know that I understand what exactly it was you gave up," McGonagall added. "I too sacrificed someone I loved because I felt it was right."

It did make her feel a bit better to know that someone actually appreciated and understood her sacrifice. She managed to muster a smile for the Scottish witch.

"You know, my offer of friendship still stands, if you want it."

She considered it for a moment before nodding.

"I would like that very much. I'm sorry it took me so long to accept."

With the past behind them, they entered the Great Hall together, for once on good terms. They found that, much to their surprise, the Great Hall had changed greatly from the way they had left it an hour prior.

The tables had vanished from sight, leaving a big empty space for the various forms of entertainment that had appeared in their place. At one end now stood a bar, tended by an old bearded man with a goat who looked oddly like Dumbledore. Then, in the center of the hall was a dance floor. The platform where the teachers usually sat had been transformed into a stage where famous welsh singer, Celestina Warbeck was giving a live performance.

“How are none of the students hearing this?” Hermione asked.

“I assume a silencing charm was cast over the room,” McGonagall replied.

That had to be it, because otherwise she was fairly certain that some students in particular would have snuck out of their dorms to join the party, aided by the use of an invisibility cloak.

Letting out a sigh, Hermione headed for the bar to order herself a drink. She didn’t ordinarily drink as a rule, but she had a feeling that she was going to need to make an exception to get through the rest of the evening. It was there that she discovered that the Bartender was actually Dumbledore’s older brother, Aberforth, though he didn’t seem too thrilled about the fact.

Drink in hand, she made her way around the room, sticking to the sidelines at first as she searched the room for familiar faces. McGonagall had somehow ended up on the dance floor with an older gentleman whom Hermione recognized as her old boss from the Ministry. It registered in her mind at that moment, that this could be the late husband that she had heard about briefly during her original time. She wasn’t sure what had happened to him, but for the sake of her new friend, she hoped that it didn’t happen this time around. McGonagall looked happy.

Dumbledore was also dancing, sporting all sorts of strange and colorful dance moves along with Madam Vervain. Honestly, she never knew Dumbledore could move like that. Though, at the same time, it didn’t really surprise her. Dumbledore had always been known to be spontaneous. You never knew quite what to expect with him.

Then there was Slughorn. He appeared to be deep in conversation with one of the other professors when he caught her gaze, completely disregarding the professor as he turned his full attention to her.

“Merlin’s Beard, if it isn’t my most brilliant former pupil!” he exclaimed, motioning her over to him. “Just look at you, my dear! Every bit as famous as I imagined you would be.”

She didn’t know if it was the potency of the drink or the depth of the praise he had just lavished on her, but Hermione couldn’t help the tint of pink that spread across her cheeks.

“Oh, I don’t know about that, but if I am, it’s all thanks to the wonderful man who taught me.”

“Nonsense, my dear. I just guided you in the right direction. The rest was all you,” Slughorn pretended to wave it off, even though she knew that deep down he was drinking in every word. Flattery was a highly effective tool when it came to him. “Now, tell me more about this Wolfsbane Potion you just discovered. I admit, I am quite fascinated by the idea of it.”

Always eager to discuss her work with others, she indulged him his request, going into great detail over the ways that the potion aided werewolves in their monthly transformations. Not only did it allow them to keep their human mindset in wolf form, but she had also found a way to make it dull the pain of the transformation itself

“It sounds wonderful! I’m sure that the werewolves are all fighting to get their hands on it.”

Well, not all of the werewolves. There was at least one that she could think of who would probably want nothing to do with it; Fenrir Greyback. In fact, the potion probably wouldn’t even work on him. His human mindset was just as bad as his werewolf one.

They talked for a while longer, and Slughorn told her all about the things he planned to do now that he was retired. He admitted that she had inspired him to want to travel the world himself, and she recommended a few places that she thought he'd enjoy, one of them being Hawaii.

"Well now, what a lucky day this is for me!" Slughorn exclaimed, staring off behind her. "To have both of my most brilliant students back in the same room. How has life as the youngest ever Minister of Magic been treating you, Tom?"

A wave of cold washed over her. _He_ was there… Tom Riddle was standing right behind her. She could sense it before he even spoke.

“It has its ups and downs, but I enjoy the challenge,” Tom said.

She kept her back to him, as she struggled to get a hold of her conflicting emotions. What was he even doing here? Had Dumbledore invited him? Surely not, after everything that had happened. Besides, Dumbledore had assured her when she agreed to take his offer that her and her children would be perfectly safe. Maybe someone else invited him? Slughorn, perhaps?

“Miss Granger, or rather Professor Granger-Renshaw as she goes by now, was just telling me about her work in America. It’s quite remarkable what she’s been able to achieve in such a short amount of time. Much like yourself.”

“Is that so?” Tom asked. “Well, I’d love to hear all about it. Perhaps over a dance, Professor Granger-Renshaw?”

“I don’t know. I’m getting rather tired, and I have lesson plans to look over yet. I think I’d rather head back to my room,” she excused, turning to leave.

“Nonsense! There will be more than enough time to worry about lesson plans during the school year,” Slughorn insisted, reaching out to stop her from leaving. “Go on and enjoy yourself while you can!”

Hermione silently cursed her jolly former potions master, as he practically pushed her into Tom’s arms before going to pursue someone else in conversation. She wasn’t even sure whether to feel fortunate for the fact that Tom actually caught her. At least if she had fallen to the floor she wouldn’t be tempted by the rush of pleasure that having his hands on her waist brought her.

“Are you alright there?” Tom asked, helping her back to an upright position.

“I’m fine. I just forgot how annoyingly persistent he can be,” she said, pulling away from his grasp.

“I want you to know that It was not my intention to bother you, Professor. I completely understand if you’d rather leave.”

For the first time since she had been made aware of his presence, Hermione turned to face him. He didn’t look all that different from the last time she had seen him. Obviously, he was a bit older, but so was she. She tried not to let her eyes linger on his frame for too long as she noticed the nice black everyday suit he was wearing. He was still as handsome as she remembered, and even more so in a suit. She always did have a thing for him in a suit.

Pulling her eyes away from the suit, she focused more on his face. She could find no reason for alarm. His expression bore no signs of recognition. As far as she could tell, he seemed genuine. Though, she couldn’t deny that she had been fooled by that on more than one occasion.

“You didn’t bother me… and I suppose that one dance wouldn’t hurt,” she relented.

With a smile, he extended his arm to her, which she hesitantly took, allowing him to lead her over to the dancefloor. She made sure to catch Dumbledore’s eye as they passed, silently asking him if he had known that Tom would be here. The only answer she got was the sight of his eyes twinkling. Somehow, that alone told her all she needed to know. She would be having words with him later.

A new song had just started to play when they found a vacant spot, ushering in a slow dance. Hermione couldn’t help but feel like someone was going to great lengths to make her uncomfortable, as she was left with no other choice but to let Tom hold her close, one hand set gently on her back and the other clasped in her own.

Once more she had to force herself to focus elsewhere in an attempt to stop herself from thinking about just how close their bodies were as they swayed to the music and how a part of her longed to move even closer so that they were pressed right against each other. She knew she shouldn't. She should have been able to get over him in the last eleven years, but she hadn't.

They talked a bit about their respective work, though it was a bit difficult to do so over the music. She told him about her efforts to help misunderstood magical creatures, and he spoke about his work in the ministry to help the non magical families of young witches and wizards to better cope with everything. This didn’t surprise her. It made sense for him to do so, based on his own family background.

"This is nice,” Tom admitted. “It’s been a while since we’ve danced like this. I’ve missed it.”

It took only a few moments for the meaning behind Tom’s words to dawn on her. She stiffened when it did. Looking up to meet his gaze, she saw that he was smirking. He remembered…

“How?”

“I always knew that something was missing, but I could never figure out what it was, that is until my grandmother, on her deathbed, handed me a picture of the two of us and said your name,” he explained. “All the memories you removed started to return after that.”

Hermione didn’t know what to think of that, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. She was shocked by the revelation that the memory charm had been broken. Then there was the knowledge that Mary was dead. That made her sad. However, above all else, she was frightened. Frightened about what this all meant… Frightened that Tom had approached her, all the while remembering everything that he had done and everything that she had done to stop him.

Suddenly feeling as if the temperature had risen dramatically, she pulled away mid-step and before Tom could grab hold of her to stop her, turned and fled, fighting her way through the crowd of dancers. She vaguely heard Tom call her name over the music, but she ignored him.

No sooner had she made it off the dance floor, then she broke out into a full fledged run out of the Great Hall and down the corridor, running as fast as she could to get away. She didn’t really know where she was going, nor did she know what she was going to do once she got to wherever it was she was going, but she didn’t particularly care about either of those things at that moment. All that she knew was that she needed to get away.

“Hermione, wait!”

She gritted her teeth. He had come after her. Of course he had. She should have known that he wouldn’t let her go that easily. Uttering a quick disillusionment charm in her mind, she ducked into an alcove, raising a hand to her mouth to muffle her rugged breathing.

He reached her alcove a few minutes later, where he stopped to catch his breath and look around. When he glanced her way, she thought for sure that she had been caught, but then he turned away and continued past. She waited a few minutes, listening to the sound of his footsteps growing quieter and quieter before sneaking back out.

She didn’t expect Tom to be standing just feet away, waiting for her...

“Revelio!” he exclaimed, reaching out to grab her by the arms.

“Let go of me!”

She fought against him, kicking and jerking and doing everything she could think of as she desperately sought to get free, but no matter what she did, he just wouldn’t relent. He didn’t even attempt to fight back. He just took every kick and stomp to the foot, all the while maintaining a firm hold on her.

“Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you. Didn’t I promise you that a long time ago?”

“Yes, and you broke that promise when you hurt me by forcing me to take such drastic measures to stop you!”

He winced at that. “I know. That’s why I’m standing here letting you take your anger out on me.”

She stopped fighting, and almost as soon as she did so, her legs gave out beneath her. Tom caught her in his arms again before she could fall, taking advantage of her legs weakness to hug her close to him. She didn’t try to stop him this time, allowing him to hold her in peace for a while as she tried to wrap her head around what he had just said.

Was that his way of apologizing to her? It sounded too crazy to be true, but then again, Tom’s behavior didn’t always make sense. His way of dealing with jealousy was to turn his rival into a rat, and his way of dealing with anger and frustration was to inflict pain. When she thought of it that way, she supposed that it made sense for his way of dealing with his own wrong doing to be allowing said person to inflict pain on him.

“I’m not good at apologizing. You of all people should know that,” he began. “I’ve never felt regret at my actions… that is, until I realized just how badly I had hurt you. For the first time in my life, I am truly and utterly sorry.”

She hadn’t realized just how much she had needed to hear those words. And to think, she never thought she would hear them. It was nice to have been proven wrong about him again for once.

Allowing her body to slump against his, she laid her head down against his chest. The sound of his heart beating underneath her ear was surprisingly calming, and she could feel her anger and sorrow melt away, leaving her feeling worn out, but oddly calm.

“I admit, I was not completely myself during our last encounter. My mind was clouded by a lust for power. As angry as I was at the time, I am not angry at you any longer. In fact, I should thank you for what you did. Once again, you straightened me out when I fell out of line.

“I don’t expect to have your forgiveness, especially not right away, but I’m hoping that you’d be willing to at least give me another chance.”

Hermione didn’t reply at first. Truth be told, a part of her had already forgiven him. Was she convinced that he would never fall out of line again? No, absolutely not. She knew that if she let him back into her life, that there would be more incidents, maybe not as bad as the last, but still. Tom was dark by nature. There was no denying that.

Confident that she was able to stand on her own again, she pulled away from him, just enough so that she could see his face. He was crying. There were actual tears in his eyes. She had never seen him cry before. She hadn't even known if he was capable of doing so. To have him cry for her of all people, proved just how sorry he was.

Her mind was made up.

"You know, I still have that white rose you gave me for Valentine's Day. It still sits on my nightstand, blooming just as it was the day it magically appeared in my dorm room,” she told him. “I meant what I said to you before I obliviated you. I love you, Tom Riddle. I never stopped, despite everything.”

“I love you too, Hermione. I know I never said it in so many words, but I do.”

Words could not explain how happy she felt at hearing those four simple words that she had waited so long to hear. Overtaken by the moment, she reached up on her tippy toes and giving in to her desires, kissed him right then and there. He didn’t hesitate to lean into it, both of them releasing all of the longing for one another that they had suppressed over the years.

The spark that always seemed to ignite between them when they kissed was still there, just as powerful as ever. Hermione got the feeling that it would always be there, acting as an eternal bond between them. There might be a few cracks in it from their time away, but perhaps with time they would be able to heal those cracks together.

“I have to ask… I admit, I don’t quite know how to go about asking this, but…” he asked nervously. “There was an article on your visit to King’s Cross in the Daily Prophet. It mentioned children… twins, they said... It made me wonder...”

She had wondered if someone would write an article about that, hoping that they wouldn’t be so nosy, not necessarily because she was trying to hide the fact, but more so because it was a violation of their privacy. The last thing she wanted was for her children to be submitted to the same social scrutiny that she had once gone through as the best friend of Harry Potter. She would have to try and strike a deal with a press to see if she could get them to lay off.

“Yes, they’re yours. And before you jump to conclusions, I only found out after everything had gone down. I didn’t know when I left.”

“That was probably for the best. Merlin only knows how I would have reacted back then.”

“And now?” she raised a brow, examining his face for any sign on how he might be taking it.

He shrugged. “I don’t really know how to react. I’ve never been particularly good with kids. However, I do know what it’s like to grow up without a father for a large part of your life. If you’d allow me to, I would like to try and be a part of their lives. May I at least know their names?”

“Sebastian Thomas and Evelyn Marie.”

He pulled a face. “Of course you’d keep that blasted tradition alive.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that. It was just too funny not too.

“Just be thankful I didn’t give our son that as his first name,” she said. “And yes, I will allow you to be a part of all of our lives, but only if you promise to be more open this time. You don’t have to hide it from me if you get angry and are tempted to hurt people because of it.”

He nodded his head. “I promise to do my best.”

She smiled. That was all she could really ask from him, and it was good enough for her.  
Of course, she would talk to the twins first and ask them how they felt about the idea, but she didn’t think they would be much trouble in that regard. She hadn’t held back from telling them about him when they asked. There were things they were obviously too young to know, but they knew the basics of what had happened. They had never shown signs of hating him or anything, just a curiosity to know who he was, especially in Sebastian’s case.

“Now, shall we go rejoin the party?” Tom asked. “The night is still fairly young, and don’t even bother trying to make excuses. You’ve stayed up much later than this on a school night to chat with your grandfather.”

He did make a valid point, but even if he hadn’t, the idea of returning to the party didn’t seem so bad to her anymore if it meant she could spend it making up for some of the time she had lost with him.

“Just lead the way.”

Then, taking her hand in his, for once without being fought over it, the two of them started back the way they had come with nothing but contentment hanging over them.

**~ THE END ~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it! We've finally reached the end! I'd like to thank you all for reading this far! I admit that I am quite sad that this fanfic is over, as I've poured my heart and soul into it for the past seven-almost eight months. However, I do have some ideas for new Tomione fics I'm hoping to write eventually, so keep your eyes open for that.
> 
> Anyway, I'd appreciate it if you let me know what you thought of either the last chapter or the entire fanfic as a whole. I do read and look forward to each and every comment I get :)


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